A Time To Remember
by CatJetRat
Summary: Harry and Draco get blasted into the past, thanks to Harry's stupidity, and they get to meet the Marauders! Dark Lord is dead, and Draco and Severus are innocent. HPDM Slash! And a little HGPP femmeslash on the side.
1. A Fallen Prince

**A/N:** What can I say? I live for Harry/Draco. Adios!

-CatJetRat

**Warning: Excessive gayness and eventual sappiness. Characters aren't OOC, but situations are unrealistic in HP world, except, of course, for the DH pairing. You have been warned.**

**Chapter 1**

**A Fallen Prince**

**Normal POV**

Harry chewed on a sugar quill and glared down at his Transfiguration essay. Honestly, their teachers shouldn't assign them homework this difficult right before the holidays! Harry leaned back in his chair and stretched, eyes roving around the library. His gaze fell on Draco Malfoy, sitting around a table with his two best friends, Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson, presumably working on the same essay. The boy was truly a mystery. He and his mother had joined the Light side after returning to Hogwarts, and had fought side by side Harry in the final battle. It turned out that Snape was innocent as well. He had killed Dumbledore, but only at Dumbledore's request that he do so to save Malfoy from having to do it. That was why Snape had been so horrified and full of anger after killing Dumbledore. Horror and hatred at what he'd had to do. He had also fought next to Harry, as had Malfoy. Indeed, Harry and Malfoy had saved each other's lives countless times in the battle. Lucius, surprisingly enough, had also saved his life, and he had returned the favor. Yet after the battle, in their seventh year, it was as if none of this had happened. Malfoy went back to hating Harry, and, after a few well-placed hexes on Malfoy's part, Harry returned the favor. Harry shrugged. None of it mattered, anyway. Voldemort was gone, his Horcruxes demolished; that was all that mattered.

Harry realized that Hermione was glaring at him, and, with a sigh, he returned to his essay. _What_ had possessed him to ask for her help? He should have known it would be, "Look at this, Harry" "Study that, Harry," on and _on_.

Harry spent the next two hours working on his essay, hoping it would be good enough for McGonagall, who had continued teaching Transfiguration, as they were unable to find a suitable replacement. With a relieved sigh at two in the morning, he rolled it up. Thank Merlin it was a Friday. He could have a lie in the next day. Harry stood up, and Hermione muttered something about studying more. Harry smiled. Hermione's brilliance had been a great asset in the war, and, much as he hated to admit it, so had Snape's. He had produced healing potion after healing potion for Madame Pomfrey, and he was also brilliant in battle. Though it was Harry in the end who felled Voldemort, it was his allies who tore down a path to him.

Harry began heading towards the library door, and again, his gaze strayed towards his once-ally. Though Malfoy liked to act as if nothing had changed, it had indeed. Several students from Slytherin House were gone, though much less than expected. Many had gone over to the Light side, and, indeed, most had never been Dark to begin with. It was a misconception, borne of their cunning and often ill-tempered attitudes. Malfoy certainly hadn't been evil. But after the war, though he treated Harry with the same ill-contempt, he hadn't behaved in his house as normal. He was quieter, and while before he had almost behaved like a prince, and been treated as one, after the war he just acted like a seventeen year old boy.

But lately, Harry noticed that had been fading. More people were returning to Hogwarts, as the fear of a Death Eater rebellion died down. More Slytherins returned too. Harry suspected that many of them had been afraid to return, afraid that others would reject them. But there had been no rejection, and no more hatred of Slytherins than usual. It seemed that all anyone cared about was the fact that Voldemort was gone. The worst attitude to be had towards Slytherins was that of a fallen enemy. Some viewed Draco Malfoy as a fallen prince. But Harry knew better. Malfoy would return. He was just garnering his strength. No Malfoy ever stayed fallen for long. Malfoy's attitude towards Harry was evidence enough of that. He actually found that he almost wanted it that way. Then, he could hate Malfoy and nothing would seem like it had changed. Soon, everything would be back to normal.

**Two Weeks Later**

"I can't believe I ever wanted him to be normal again!" Harry snapped, he and Ron slamming down into seats next to Hermione at the Gryffindor table. Hermione looked up from her book, and choked on her steak and kidney pie. In shining letters across Harry's forehead were the words 'Golden Boy'. Next to him Ron sported 'The Loyal Dog'.

Two tables over Malfoy was practically falling out of his chair he was laughing so hard. Hermione bit back her own bubbling laughter and waved her wand. The words vanished. Harry and Ron heaved identical relieved sighs.

"You mean you actually wanted him like this?" Ron asked in disgust, helping himself to some mashed potatoes.

Harry shrugged. "I thought it would be better than having him act all quiet and noble." He grimaced and touched his forehead. "Guess I was wrong."

"How did he manage to curse you two anyway and get away with it?" Hermione asked.

Harry and Ron exchanged guilty looks. "Well, _technically_ we started it," Harry said. Hermione's eyes narrowed. "It wasn't like we did anything bad!" Harry protested quickly. "We were in transfiguration, learning how to turn each other into animals, and Ron said something about how now we'd be able to turn Malfoy into a ferret again and keep him that way and, well, he hexed us," Harry finished miserably.

"Anyway, McGonagall took five points from Slytherin, and punished us by refusing to take the words off," Ron muttered grumpily.

Hermione sighed loftily. "I agree with her punishment," she said firmly. "And I shouldn't have taken it off of you."

"Oh, come on, Hermione," Harry pleaded. "Please don't put it back on."

"Yeah, we'll be good!" Ron chimed in.

Hermione rolled her eyes and turned back to her dinner. Ron and Harry grinned, starting in on theirs.

The next day in transfiguration, Ron was up to his usual tricks again. He and Harry were sitting behind Malfoy today, and Ron was imitating a ferret. Harry was doing his best not to laugh at the impressions Ron was making, and was doing quite a good job, until one rather realistic impression of Malfoy as a ferret caught him off guard, and he burst out laughing. Malfoy wheeled around, and immediately saw what was happening. His eyes narrowed, and he whipped out his wand. Harry jerked his out too. "_Petrificus Totalus_!" he cried, but Harry blocked that and raised his own wand.

"_Rectumsempra_!" Harry exclaimed, but Malfoy dodged it. A wand went flying across the room but Harry didn't bother to ask whose. Malfoy fired the Jelly-Legs jinx, and Harry shot out the Tickling charm. Both were dodged, and various students cried out as they became the unlucky recipients of Harry and Malfoy's strong curses.

"_Expelliarmus_!" came a stern voice, and Harry and Malfoy both found their wands being torn from their hands and into the hands of one Professor McGonagall. Both boys shrank visibly from her glare.

"I have had enough of your antics, the both of you!" she snapped. "Twenty-Five points from both Gryffindor and Slytherin, and the both of you get to clean the Ancient Runes classroom tonight—_without magic_," she added severely. "No fighting or else you get to clean it, and my classroom for the rest of the month!"

"Why the Ancient Runes classroom?" Harry asked boldly, fully expecting to be reprimanded for asking. Instead she smiled, but it was a scary smile.

"Because it seems one of the students uncovered a rune which covered the walls and ceiling in Stink Sap," she said. "And unfortunately it cannot be removed using magic. Some property in the rune that the professor is looking into. The house-elves finished about half of the room, and I've been waiting for someone to act up in my classroom so I can make them do it. And you boys are the lucky ones!"

Harry groaned inwardly. He had had his own unfortunate experience with Stink Sap a couple of years ago, and was _not_ looking forward to a reunion. Malfoy looked livid, though. Harry hid a smirk. He suspected that, except for detentions, Malfoy had never cleaned anything in his life. This would be fun….

Harry was seriously reconsidering that statement four hours later, though. He and Malfoy had been at it for about an hour, and had barely finished one wall. The house-elves had cleaned the ceiling and two walls, leaving the rest to Harry and Malfoy. Harry and Malfoy had fought for about half an hour over who would do what, and it was finally decided that they would take turns retrieving the water. Apparently magical water and soap didn't work either. The house-elves had cleaned the spaces around the walls so that the two boys could sit or stand comfortably while cleaning.

Harry slumped back, tired and reeking, and moaned. His only comfort was that his blond companion wasn't faring any better. Covered in Stink Sap, he was too tired to even complain about the state of his hair, which was all he had done for the first forty-five minutes. Harry took pity on his rival, and cast a quick cleaning spell on the both of them. Malfoy glanced down at himself, and then looked at Harry. "Thanks, Potter," he muttered. Harry nodded, and they got up and began working again.

Almost three hours later, they were finally done. Malfoy threw his sponge into the bucket. "Never again," he said in horror.

Harry laughed, and felt his stomach rumble. He stood up, stretching, plans to sneak down into the kitchen already forming in his mind. Thank goodness for Fridays. He stood up, casting another cleaning spell on the both of them. He glanced around the classroom, curiosity peaking his mind. He was surprised that he was still awake enough to _be _curious, but he was. What was Ancient Runes about, anyway? He cast his eye over the books lining the shelves, and spotted one with some interesting looking runes. He opened the book, which was cracked and dusty. It didn't look like it'd been opened in years, and flipped through it casually.

"Potter, what are you doing?" Malfoy's voice floated over to his. Harry shrugged. "Just looking," he said. Now _there_ were some interesting runes. What looked like a sundial and sun were sitting on a page, and underneath it was what looked like Latin words. Harry looked carefully at the runes, and, unbeknownst to him, they appeared below his feet.

"Tempus converto viginti septum annum!"

"Potter!" Malfoy shouted, grabbing his arm. "What are you—?"

He was cut off suddenly by a whirl of sound. They were yanked off their feet and thrown backwards, their heads hitting the newly cleaned wall, and they passed out.

A few hours later, Professor Argyle wandered into the room, pushing her hair away from her face. She spotted the two boys on the ground and gasped. She went to retrieve Professor McGonagall.

The unconscious boys were taken to the Infirmary, where Madam Pomfrey revived them. They stirred. Malfoy came to first.

"Bloody hell, Potter," he mumbled. "I'm going to kill you."

Harry stirred next. "Shut it, Malfoy," he grumbled, and opened his eyes. Professor McGonagall was staring sternly down at them. Harry gulped.

"It was his fault, Professor," Malfoy jumped the gun. "I told him not to look through the Ancient Runes textbook but he wouldn't listen!"

"You did not!" Harry scowled. "Besides, all I did was look!"

"And speak a spell! I don't even _want_ to know what you did."

"ENOUGH!" Professor McGonagall shouted, and they fell silent. "Now I don't know who you boys are, or how you got into the castle, but I want an explanation, now!"

Harry and Malfoy looked up at him, identical signs of confusion on their faces. "What are you talking about, Professor?" Harry finally said. "I'm Harry Potter, and he's Malfoy."

"Draco Malfoy," the fair-haired boy corrected, and glared at his companion. "And isn't it obvious what you've done? I remember the words you spoke now, and I speak Latin! You sent us back in time twenty seven years!"

**A/N:** Well, that's a good enough start for now. I don't think this will be too long. Maybe like five or six chapters. Adios!

-CatJetRat


	2. Lost In Time

**A/N:** This little ficlet has the possibility of being fun. At least, I hope. Lol. Well, here's the second chapter! Adios!

-CatJetRat

**Chapter 2**

**Lost in Time**

**Normal POV**

Harry looked at Malfoy, surprise written all over his features. "How could I send us through time? I didn't write the runes!"

"They appeared underneath you! Why do you think that book was so unused? Because the runes appear when you look at them for too long! It was a mistake made by the wizard who wrote the book. Now you've managed to send us back in time, _and_ give me a bump on the head!"

"Well excuse me," Harry sneered snottily, feeling like they were both 11 years old again. "I'm so sorry that I recited runes I didn't…." Harry trailed off, and it struck him just how stupid he sounded. "Erm…" he muttered. "Oops?"

McGonagall was smiling ruefully. "You two seem to have misplaced yourselves." Harry looked up guiltily. "Er, yes, Professor," he said respectably.

McGonagall sighed. "Professor Dumbledore is currently away," she said. "I will have Professor Argyle look into how to send the two of you back to your time."

Harry and Draco nodded. "In the meantime, the two of you will continue classes. It's December 4th, Saturday. Was that the day when you left?"

Harry and Draco nodded again, each biting back groans. "Good. You will be situated, and then report to my chambers to see about your schedules." She narrowed her eyes. "And there will no talk of future events. Do I make myself clear?"

Harry agreed rapidly, as did Draco. She looked back and forth between them, and chuckled. "You two make quite a sight. Like black and white. Good and bad. Let me guess." She pointed at Harry. "Gryffindor, son of James Potter, and," she pointed to Malfoy next. "Slytherin, son of Lucius Malfoy." Malfoy grinned lazily. "How did you guess?" She laughed, and it was amazing to see her so young, in her mid-thirties. She began heading towards the door.

She paused, one hand on the doorknob. "By the way, what were you two doing in the Ancient Runes classroom so late at night?" she asked suspiciously.

Harry grinned suddenly. "_You_ assigned us detention for fighting."

She laughed. "Figures. You two seem like you fight a lot. Just like your fathers." She left, and Harry stretched out on the bed a grin on his face.

"What are you so happy about?" Malfoy asked.

Harry sat up. "Don't you get it, Malfoy?" he said happily. "I sent us back in time twenty seven years. Twenty seven years ago our parents were also seventh years in Hogwarts!"

"Which means…?" Malfoy asked.

"That I'll get to finally meet my parents!"

Malfoy's eyes narrowed. "You heard McGonagall. Don't try and change anything. It could screw our entire future up! You already had to defeat the Dark Lord once; you don't want to have to do it again, do you?"

Harry looked at Draco in slight surprise. It was the first time Malfoy had said anything about Lord Voldemort since the war had ended. But his rival was right, much as he hated to admit it. Anything he did here might screw up the future in a bad way. Harry didn't want a bunch of people dying because of him.

"You're right," he said solemnly. "We can't tell them anything." He grinned mischievously. "Doesn't mean we can't wreak some havoc while we're here!"

Malfoy groaned. "Wreak it yourself," he muttered, getting out of the hospital bed. "I'm going to the Slytherin common room."

"Oh no you are not!" Madam Pomfrey declared, looking surprisingly unchanged, aside from her hair being brown and not white. "You two are sharing a private room together. No need to get everyone mixed around while you are here. My name is—"

"We know what your name is," the two boys said in unison.

She looked highly affronted. "Very well then. You can dine with your respective houses, and go to their commons rooms, but you must share a room. We aren't moving everyone else around for the two of you."

Harry bit back a groan. The last thing he wanted to do was share a room with his arrogant prick of an enemy, but there was nothing for it. Malfoy looked equally unhappy about the arrangement, but both boys did not protest, for they knew it would be of no use.

"A house elf will show you to your rooms."

A house-elf neither recognized appeared, and gestured for them to follow. They walked around the unusually deserted hallways until they came to a room on the second floor. She bowed, and they went inside.

It was a fairly simple arrangement. There were two four-poster beds on opposite walls, one adorned in Slytherin colors and the other decorated with Gryffindor colors. There was a bathroom, a wardrobe, and two desks. There was also a blue couch with a coffee table in front. Malfoy spotted the wardrobe and groaned.

"Great. What am I supposed to wear? I left all my clothes in 2007! Didn't realize I'd be going back through time for a little vacation," he snarled, narrowing his eyes at Harry, who just rolled his, and sat down on the Gryffindor bed, which was comfortable enough. He kicked off his trainers, and walked over to the wardrobe, yanking the door open. Inside were neatly folded and hung underwear, socks, shoes, and robes, Slytherin and Gryffindor colors and badges on them.

"Fabulous," Malfoy snapped. "Hand-me-downs."

Harry wheeled around. "Do you _ever_ stop complaining?!" he shouted.

"Oh, I forgot," Malfoy sneered. "You wear hand-me-downs all the time, don't you? No wonder your clothes always look baggy on you—"

"_Silencio!_" Harry shouted, having had just about enough of the blond's antics. He turned around and slumped on the bed, then checked his watch, which seemed to have gone backwards in time with them. It now read '10:30 A.M. 1980'. Shooting one last scathing look at his companion, who seemed to be trying to figure out how to remove the spell without thinking, he lifted the spell, and dragged Malfoy to Professor McGonagall's office, where the two of them figured their schedule out.

An hour later, Harry had his schedule in hand, and was just about ready to take Malfoy's neck in his hands as well. His companion was _insufferable_, always complaining about this or that and blaming his entire state of affair on Harry. While it was indeed Harry's fault, having to hear about it over and _over_ again was undeniably obnoxious. He would be glad to be rid of him when they went to classes, then remembered that they had most classes together and sighed.

On Monday, they entered the Great Hall, having had private meals in their rooms all weekend, which fell silent at their arrival. Professor McGonagall stood up. "As I explained this morning, we have two students who seem to have lost themselves in time. I would like to present, from twenty years from now, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy."

Gasps and whispers scuttled along the tables. Harry bit back a grin. Were it not for an obvious change in style, and the absence of some familiar faces, Harry would have thought that they had never left their time. It seems some things never change….

_But some things do_. Harry felt his gut clench as he spotted the dumbfounded faces of James Potter, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew. Harry glanced at Malfoy and saw that his gaze was intent upon his father's face, and Snape's face. The both of them looked unfazed, but that was the way of Slytherins.

Malfoy left Harry and moved towards the Slytherin table, where he sat between Lucius and Snape, and immediately fell into conversation with them. Harry was less certain. But then he saw his father jerk his head slightly, motioning for Harry to join them.

Harry went over, and sat hesitantly between Sirius and James. Seeing Sirius again was strange, but not nearly as strange as it was seeing James and Peter. Wormtail had died in the Second War, reverting to the Light side before the final battle. Voldemort himself had killed Peter, and Harry wasn't quite sure how he felt about it. Harry decided that while no tears should be shed over Peter's death, he would not curse him. Harry had forgiven him in the end, mainly because he had died defending Ron.

Harry looked away from Peter finally, and focused on James. He truly did resemble his father. Aside from slight differences, like eyes and no scar, he could have been staring in a mirror. A chuckle distracted them from staring at each other.

"Wow," Sirius said. "I guess you finally do get a girl, Prongs."

James looked up, startled, and laughed. "Yeah, I guess I do." He and Sirius shared a meaningful look, which Harry could only assume was about Lily.

"So," James asked, trying to joke. "How's the future? Am I an okay dad?" He grimaced. "Merlin, don't tell me I'm one of those boring dads always insisting that his kids do well in school!"

Harry laughed. "No, you aren't, don't worry."

"Did—or, I guess, do we teach you any good tricks?" Sirius asked.

Harry shrugged uncomfortably. "Not really," he said. "But there are a couple of great pranksters at Hogwarts, or, there were, until they graduated. The Weasley twins, Fred and George. They run a joke shop now. They made a great exit, though…." Harry told them all about Fred and George's great escape from Umbridge, being careful not to say too much. By the end, his four new friends were practically falling out of their seats they were laughing so hard.

"And then," Harry choked, "They said, 'Give her hell from us, Peeves,' and he actually listened! The rest of that year was pretty good." Harry avoided thinking about the end of it.

"Anyway," James said, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes, "Tell us about your friends. You haven't said much about them."

"Well, there's Ron. He plays Keeper on our Quidditch team, and he's pretty good when he puts his mind to it. He's also a Weasley. He's been my best friend ever since we met on the train. Then there's Hermione. She's a bookworm, but she can be really sweet and brave when she wants to be. But she's also really strict about rules—" All four marauders groaned in unison and Harry grinned. "Yeah, but she keeps me and Ron in line." Harry suddenly found himself voicing what he never would have before. "They're totally in love, but would never realize it." The marauders nodded understandingly.

"Do you play Quidditch?" James asked curiously.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I play seeker. I'm also Quidditch captain," he added, and couldn't help the note of pride that entered his voice as he said this.

"Really?" James looked impressed. "Brilliant; so am I!"

"Seeker or captain?"

"Both!"

Sirius rolled his eyes.

After lunch they had to split up. Harry was headed for Charms but they had Care of Magical Creatures.

Harry arrived early and was amused to see tiny little Professor Flitwick looking the same as ever, at the front of his class, walking on top of his desk. Harry spotted Draco entering the classroom alone. Apparently his dad and Snape had different classes as well. Their eyes met in silent agreement. Draco came over and sat next to Harry, pulling off the book bag McGonagall had given him.

"So," Harry said after a moment. "How was it for you?"

He realized a second too late how that sounded, and blushed quickly. Draco seemed to not notice, however. He shrugged. "Okay, I guess. A little weird. But it was probably a lot weirder for you. I mean, your dad's de—"

"Shh!" Harry hissed, and cast Muffliato. "Okay, go on."

"What spell was that?" Draco asked instead.

"Muffliato," Harry said. "It makes it so you can talk without others listening."

"Cool. Can you teach me?"

"I guess," Harry said, taken aback. It was the first time Malfoy had ever asked him for something.

"Like I was saying, it must have been even weirder for you, since, well, Sirius and James are dead, and Peter's the one who sold them out."

Harry winced, but fell into conversation with him, surprised at how easy it was. Malfoy was much more bearable now that he'd had time to calm down. "Yeah, it was really weird, but kind of cool at the same time. I mean, I know I can't do anything to change the future, so, it's sort of like I'm not really worried about it. And Peter redeemed himself in the end by dying for Ron, so I'm not really mad at him."

Malfoy nodded. "That's…noble," he said, and Harry was impressed to hear that he was trying to resist sneering.

"What was it like meeting your dad?" Harry asked.

"I don't know," Malfoy said. "He was sort of…like me. And not as composed as he is in our time. He also doesn't seem to be fascinated with the dark arts at all." Malfoy frowned. "It's almost like he has no thought of becoming a Death Eater after Hogwarts."

Harry frowned. "Well, maybe he doesn't join until later."

Malfoy nodded slowly. "Yeah…you're probably right."

They were forced to stop talking after that, as class began. Harry felt amused to notice that they were actually ahead of the class. It seemed to be the same lesson they'd had about two day before. However, the review was helpful. He studiously took notes. Malfoy was also paying much more attention than he normally would. It was so odd, being in classes with a bunch of unknown students, with Malfoy being the only person he knew. Harry suspected that Malfoy was also struck by the oddness of the situation.

They sat in silence for the next forty five minutes, until the bell rang. Harry and Malfoy stood up silently, gathering their things. Harry was the first to break the silence.

"What class do you have next?" Harry asked nervously.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts," Malfoy said, looking up through his sheen of blond hair, which wasn't especially long, but still managed to hang over his eyes.

"Me too," Harry said. "Do you enjoy it?"

Draco frowned thoughtfully. "Yes…" he said hesitantly.

"But?" Harry prompted.

"But I had enough of the Dark Arts in the war. I really like Potions and Transfiguration more. Ever since I was little Severus has been teaching me about Potions. I got pretty good at it too. Made an 'Outstanding' on my Potions OWL."

"Really?" Harry was interested. "I only made an E. But I got an 'Outstanding' in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Oh, yeah, I overheard you telling Weasley and Granger that you wanted to be an Auror. Is that true?"

Harry shrugged. "Originally, but now I'm reconsidering. I agree with you—I had enough of fighting in the war. I was thinking maybe professional Quidditch, or Healing. Maybe I'll even become a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. The curse was removed, I think, after Voldemort died."

Together they went to Defense Against the Dark Arts, chatting together. When they reached the classroom, they filed in, and promptly froze. Lucius and Snape were standing opposite James and Sirius. Peter had backed off, and Remus looked like he wanted the fight to end, though he wasn't saying anything. There wasn't a full-blown fight yet, but tensions were high. Their entrance caused a stir. James beckoned Harry to join him, and Lucius motioned for Draco to join him. Harry and Malfoy exchanged a glance which convoyed their confusion and reluctance. Harry had no desire to fight Malfoy, not after they'd just been having a perfectly civil conversation. But his father was calling to him, and Lucius to Malfoy. Harry met Malfoy's gaze again in silent agreement. Nothing said in this fight would mean anything. With that, Harry went to James, and Malfoy to Lucius.

"What was that you were saying about Peter?" Sirius asked hotly.

"That he's nothing but a lowlife half-blood," Snape sneered. "Who will amount to nothing. Just like you. Or can't you hear?"

Furious, Sirius whipped out his wand and immediately began dueling Snape. James and Lucius hung back, their arms thrown out around their sons to prevent them intervening. A lazy smirk played around Lucius' lips, directed towards James, much like the ones his son often shot towards Harry Potter. If a passerby happened to glance at the scene it would have been most unnerving. Fathers and sons, the same age, looking at each other in the exact same way. There was a gleam in Lucius' eyes that went unnoticed by all but James, who swallowed nervously and tried to glare.

Shortly after, the duel was ended by a stern looking older woman, who gave both Sirius and Snape detention, and class began. Harry somehow managed to get a seat right next to the table Malfoy was at. They were practically sitting next to each other. When Harry thought no one was looking, he tore off a bit of parchment and wrote a tiny note on it, then tossed it to Malfoy, who looked up, startled. The note said 'That was really weird'.

Malfoy glanced at him, a strange look in his eyes, and wrote back. He glanced around, and then tossed the note back to Harry, who caught it. 'Yeah, I wonder how the fight got started.'

Harry ripped off a new piece of parchment. 'How do our fights ever get started? Someone says something that offends someone else, and it all goes down hill from there.'

He threw it towards Malfoy, who caught it, read the note, and nodded. Suddenly the bell rang. They stood up, collecting their things.

"I have Potions next," Harry told James, Remus, and Sirius.

"Brilliant," Remus said, grinning. "I have that as well. I was the only one who managed to get in," he added, narrowing his eyes at James and Sirius who were looking away innocently. Harry laughed, and he and Remus went down to the Potions classroom, where Slughorn still resided.

Harry and Remus entered the Potions classroom, and took a seat at a middle table to the left. Malfoy entered alone a few moments later. Harry caught his eye and jerked his head over to their table. Looking rather bemused, Malfoy sat down beside Harry. Remus glanced up, saw Malfoy, and quickly looked at Harry, who tried to convey in his gaze that nothing was wrong. Remus shrugged and turned back to his Transfiguration homework. _He's as bad as Hermione_, Harry thought, and bit back a laugh.

Slughorn entered a few moments later, looking the same as ever, though there was more auburn in his hair than there was in Harry's time.

"Silence," he said, and the bustling class looked up at him. "Now, today we'll be working on love potions. The strongest one, in fact. Amortentia." Harry had a vague memory of the potion from his first day in sixth year, the one Hermione had accurately named. "You have and hour and a half, which should be enough time to complete the potion. You are to work in partners. Begin."

Before Harry could say anything, Remus stood up and moved over to a girl sitting at the next table. Harry felt hurt for a moment until he saw Remus smile shyly at her, and understood. He turned to Malfoy, who was watching him with an odd expression on his face. Harry felt heat rush to his face.

"Right, er, do you want to get the ingredients?" Harry asked. "I'll look over the instructions." Malfoy nodded, and Harry pulled out his copy of Advanced Potion Making, wishing he had Snape's. His professor had given it to him after the war, for Harry returned it to him when it was revealed that Snape was innocent through a memory Dumbledore had left. Harry still wasn't sure why Snape had wanted him to have it, but was grateful.

Malfoy returned with the ingredients and opened his copy of Advanced Potion Making. Harry glanced at it, and saw with a jolt that it was the Half-Blood Prince's copy, twenty-seven years younger than his edition.

"That's mine!" Harry said before he could stop himself. Malfoy grinned.

"Yeah, I know. I convinced Snape to let me borrow it. Thought it might give you a fright."

Harry scoffed, and they bent over the improved copy of APM, and began.

About an hour later, they were the first to finish, producing their perfect potion triumphantly. Harry inhaled deeply. All the same scents as before…treacle tart, the woody smell of a broomstick handle and…wait, no, that wasn't the same. While before he used to smell Ginny's perfume, now there was something else. A warm, musky, almost vanilla scent invaded his nostrils. It was different, but it smelled so warm, so… exciting.

"What do you smell?" A voice whispered in his ear. Harry started, and looked around at Malfoy, who looked more content than he had ever seen him.

Harry shrugged. "Brooms, treacle tart…and, someone's scent, I dunno whose."

Malfoy nodded. "I smell brooms too, and chocolate strawberry cake, and also someone's scent, but I don't know whose it is."

Harry nodded, and frowned. "I used to smell Ginny's perfume," he said, not really sure why he was telling Malfoy this, but continued. "But now it smells completely different. Hers was flowery and light. This is warm and sweet…and seductive." Harry almost blushed as he was saying this, but didn't, as he couldn't quite remember why he should be blushing.

Draco nodded. "Yeah, I know what you mean. I used to smell Pansy's perfume, now…I don't know what I smell."

Harry nodded, and they both sat up straight as Slughorn came around and started praising their potion. Each was red behind the ears and neither knew why.

**A/N:** I was going to include more, but I figured that it can wait until the next chapter. Hope you liked it. Adios!

-CatJetRat


	3. Questions

**A/N:** You know, I could never figure it out. Is three the most magically powerful number, or is it seven? Anyway, let's hope that three is powerful for me. Lol. Here's the third chapter. Adios!

-CatJetRat

**Chapter 3**

**Questions**

**Normal POV**

**2007**

"I'm telling you—he and Malfoy had a great duel and were transported to the Sahara!" Ron exclaimed.

Hermione sighed, and rubbed her face. "For the last time, you can't Apparate in Hogwarts!"

"Well I don't see you coming up with any better answer!" Ron said angrily.

"Or maybe," said a low and angry female voice from the corner, "She just doesn't know the answer, and isn't _wasting_ time trying to come up with ludicrous ones!"

Pansy Parkinson stood up from her chair between Hermione and Blaise, running frustrated hands through her blonde hair, C cup breasts bouncing slightly. Hermione blushed and looked away. Ever since she had stalked up to Ron and Hermione and demanded to know what they had done with Draco, she, Blaise, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Luna, and Neville had been trying to figure out what had happened to their friends.

"Okay, let's run over what we know again," she said. "They were in the Ancient Runes classroom. They were cleaning up Stinksap. They were alone. Next morning the room is clean, the buckets gone, and nothing out of place!"

She flung herself around, looking desperately at the others. "Is that all we know?"

"Afraid so," Ginny said gravely. Pansy shot her a withering look. She had never liked any of the Weasleys she'd met except the two twins. Ron could be okay, sometimes, but Ginny was the most obnoxious person she had ever met. Full of narcissism about her beauty, she had become self-righteous and arrogant ever since her first year. And dating the great Harry Potter had done nothing to alleviate her ill-conceived feeling of worth. She was intelligent, and pretty, but she honestly needed to get over herself. Harry had dumped her! And she was convinced that he'd come running back any day now. Personally, Pansy wished he'd just tell her to bugger off so she could deflate her oversized head a bit. The Weaselette just _loved_ playing the tortured victim. "_Oh poor me, I had to endure such a terrible thing that I didn't even remember and that Harry had to save me from. Something that was entirely my own stupid fault._"

Pansy sighed. She would be glad to be shot of the young Weasel when they had Harry and Draco back, safe and sound. Well, Draco at least. They could find Harry alone. Except…Pansy's eyes lingered on Hermione so intent upon her book, her brown eyes lowered, her underrated breasts poking out every so slightly from underneath her shirt. Yes, maybe she would wait around to help find Harry. It would certainly be worth being near her.

**1980**

Harry waited until Malfoy's breathing had slowed to steady rhythm, and then carefully crept out of bed. He carefully pulled out his invisibility cloak, which had been in his pocket when he'd gone time traveling, and donned it. He carefully tiptoed out of the room, doing his best not to wake his unwilling roommate.

He wasn't actually sure what he was looking for. He just wanted to explore, and see what the school was like back in the 1980s.

Suddenly a hand grabbed his arm and whipped him around. Startled, Harry tried to jerk away, tripped on the hem of his robes, and went crashing down, bringing the other person down on top of him.

"Bloody hell, Potter," the other person cursed.

"Malfoy?" Harry hissed. "What the hell are you doing out here?"

"Trying to see where you're running off to," Malfoy sneered.

"No where, Malfoy, get off of me!" Harry squirmed uncomfortably underneath him. Malfoy heaved himself off of Harry and held out a hand. Harry eyed it suspiciously, before taking it and allowing himself to be pulled up.

"Where are you going?" Malfoy repeated.

"Why do you care?" Harry asked.

Malfoy shrugged. "I'm curious."

Harry looked around the dark hallway, worried that someone might hear them. "I'm just going to explore the school a bit," he said.

"Can I come?" Malfoy asked.

"What—no!" Harry exclaimed, startled.

"Why not?" Malfoy asked petulantly.

"Because…you…I…because I said so!" Harry finished uncertainly.

"Come on, Potter, don't be a jerk," Malfoy said, smirking.

"I'm not—fine! But if you get us caught I'm blaming this whole thing on you!" Harry said angrily. "Now get under the cloak and be quiet before someone hears us!"

Pleased at having gotten his way, Malfoy too slipped under the cloak, and they began moving around the school. It was much easier doing this with him than Ron or Hermione, Ron being much taller and larger than Harry, and Hermione being much more…well…_squishier_ than Harry. Malfoy was about his height, and had a similar build, since they were both seekers. The cloak fit them perfectly.

"So what exactly are we looking for?" Malfoy asked, peering around. Harry shrugged.

"Anything, really. I explore the school a lot in our time, and I was just wondering if it was any different."

Malfoy looked at him oddly, and they moved about the school silently. After about half an hour, Harry found himself somewhere that seemed vaguely familiar, almost….

And then Harry realized where they were. They were in the Astronomy Tower, the same place where Snape had killed Dumbledore, where Malfoy had almost turned his allegiance over to the Light. Judging by the stillness of Malfoy's form, he had also realized where they were.

"Why are we here?" Malfoy asked, his voice cracking.

"I—" Harry began, but was interrupted by a scuffling noise coming from up the stairs. Curious, Harry pulled a reluctant Malfoy up the stairs. About halfway up was a little room which had not been there before which held old or broken telescopes. Harry and Malfoy peered inside, to look for the source of the scuffling.

There, standing amidst the pieces of broken telescopes, stood James Potter and Lucius Malfoy. But they weren't dueling, as one might expect. No, they were kissing. As Harry and Malfoy stood next to each other, invisible and transfixed, James brushed his hands through Lucius' hair, so like his son's, and ran a hand down his back. Lucius shuddered, and arched into James. Harry felt his heart pounding hard, for in the dim light of the moon, one might almost mistake the two for Harry and Draco.

Draco's hand closed around his arm and he began pulling Harry away. When they had fully extracted themselves from the Astronomy Tower they began to run full out, and didn't stop until they reached their room, where they promptly collapsed on the floor, yanking the invisibility cloak off.

After a few moments, when they had caught their breath, Harry turned to Malfoy. "Did you know?" Harry asked.

Malfoy shook his head furiously. "I mean, I know that my dad's gay, and his marriage to my mum was a forced one, but blimey. I had no idea…." His voice trailed off.

Harry sat back on his heels, staring up at the ceiling. "I wonder why my dad married Lily if he was…that way."

Malfoy shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe his parents forced him to have an heir."

"But I remember that he was honestly interested in Lily when he was fifteen. Why would he…?"

Malfoy shot him a strange look. "How would you know that?"

"Well, I, er, saw it in a memory."

"Whose?" Malfoy asked.

With a sigh, Harry told him about Snape's memory. When he was finished, Malfoy looked almost awed. "Wow. So that's why he hates Pot—James so much."

"Yeah," Harry said glumly. His father's behavior in Snape's memory still rather bothered him.

"Hey," Malfoy said. He was looking at Harry oddly. "You're nothing like that. You've never been, as far as I know. If anything, from what you've said, you're more like Lily. James was actually kind of like me."

Harry stared at Malfoy, and felt a smile grace his face. "Thanks, Malfoy," he said, and found that he was truly touched.

Malfoy grimaced. "Let's not have a moment, now, I was just stating a fact."

Harry laughed. "Of course not. Couldn't let that happen." Harry frowned. "So how do you think they got together?"

Malfoy shrugged. "Maybe they got together for a midnight duel, like we did in our second year—"

"You mean the one you made me think we were going to have, where you set me up to take the fall with Filch?" Harry interjected.

Malfoy grinned. "Yeah, that one. I was annoyed you managed to not get caught. Anyway, they got together for a midnight duel, one thing leads to another…." He trailed off suggestively. Harry rolled his eyes.

"You're forgetting that Sirius and Snape probably would have been with them," Harry said.

"Oh yeah…." Malfoy sighed. "Well, I don't know. And I'm not sure I want to know. Just the thought of my dad shagging your dad…." Malfoy shuddered.

"Whoa, whoa!" Harry exclaimed, sitting up. "Who said there was shagging? I didn't see any shagging!"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Oh come on, Potter. I highly doubt that they were snogging like that only to stop and go have tea. I wouldn't be surprised if that's what they're doing right now."

"Having tea?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Shagging!" Malfoy exclaimed. "Honestly, Potter, the way you carry on..." He trailed off, obviously too disgusted to continue. He sighed and got up, heading over to his bed.

"Well, I'm going to sleep, Potter. Merlin, I wish it was Friday," he groaned, and flopped down on his bed, and then shuffled around until he was sufficiently underneath his covers.

Harry too went to bed, pulling his glasses off as he did so. Well, tomorrow was another day, hopefully. Maybe it wouldn't be as bad.

Harry rolled over in bed, eyes cracking open, and blearily focused on his alarm clock, which was obscured by the sleep grit in his eyes. He rubbed his eyes, blinked a few times, and focused. 10:56.

Crap! Harry jerked out of bed, tripped on his covers, and promptly fell on a sleeping Malfoy. Malfoy jerked awake.

"Bloody hell, Potter. What—"

"Wake up, Malfoy, it's almost eleven. We missed our first class, and if we don't hurry, we'll miss our second one," Harry told him, panicked. Whatever response he expected, it certainly wasn't for Malfoy to roll over and close his eyes again.

"Good," Malfoy said. "Wake me when it's time for lunch."

"Malfoy," Harry said, astonished. "You're willing to miss class?"

"Listen, Potter," Malfoy said, rolling back over and peering at Harry through sleep-blurred eyes. "Thanks to your antics, I was up have the night, and now I'm catching up on my sleep. I don't give a hippogriff's ass if I miss one morning of classes. It's 1980! And besides, they're behind us, anyway. I won't miss anything important." With that, he rolled back over and fell asleep. Harry allowed himself a few more moments to stare at Malfoy in scandalized silence, before rushing into action, pulling on the first robes he saw, grabbing his bag, and rushing to class.

About halfway to class, he realized that he was wearing Slytherin robes, the same ones Malfoy had worn the day before. He contemplated going back to change, decided it would take too long, and resolved to change at lunch. He hurried to Transfiguration. Professor McGonagall was less than pleased with his late appearance, but she let it pass. He slumped into a seat, breathing hard. As he was catching his breath, he caught a whiff of that scent he had noticed in his and Malfoy's love Potion, and looked around curiously. After a few moments, he realized that it was coming from himself. Harry sniffed the robes carefully, and suddenly realized that he was smelling Malfoy's scent, since he was the one who'd worn the robes. Harry's heart froze in his chest. No…it couldn't be. He had probably just smelled Malfoy because they were sitting so close. It couldn't be….

Harry didn't allow himself to think about it, but it bothered him for the rest of the class period. Just a little nagging doubt in the back of his head. Was he truly straight? His father wasn't. So was it so crazy…?

No. No, he was homo-free. After, he had dated Ginny, crushed on and kissed Cho Chang. No way he was gay. He was straight as an arrow. Yes.

**A/N:** Aw, poor wittle Harry's having doubts. Lol. Adios!

-CatJetRat


	4. Doubt

**A/N:** It was my birthday on the fourth of January. I turned 17. Which is pretty damn cool. I was 14 when I first got on this website. Now it's 3 years later, and I think I'm a much better writer, considering all the helpful tips my readers have given me, thank goodness. And I hope in another 3 years, if I'm still writing on this website, I'll look back at the fanfiction I'm writing now, and realize that I'm even better then than I am now. Lol. Adios!

-CatJetRat

**Chapter 4**

**Doubt**

**Normal POV**

Malfoy didn't emerge from his bed until lunch, as he'd said he would. He came into the Great Hall with tousled, damp hair, correct robes on (Harry fidgeted with his own), and a smug expression on his face. He glanced at Harry, who glared in response, and smirked at his expression, walking over to sit at the Slytherin table. Harry grumbled under his breath and stabbed at his boiled potatoes violently, still annoyed at Malfoy's late appearance and, though he would never admit it, the fact that it was Malfoy's scent he'd caught a whiff of in the love potion.

"Something wrong, Harry?" A voice said.

Harry jumped, and looked to his father, who had spoken. James, he observed, looked rather haggard as well, with dark circles underneath his eyes. Harry fought to avoid remembering why this was, and nodded quickly. "Yeah. I just—didn't get that much sleep last night."

James grinned. "You too? It's kind of weird when you meet your son from the future, especially your son who looks like a carbon copy of you." His brow furrowed. "Except for your eyes. They look strangely familiar." He smiled, and his smile had a small trace of bitterness in it that Harry could only see because he was looking for it. "They must be your mother's eyes. Do we make good parents?"

"I'm not supposed to talk about it," Harry muttered uncomfortably. He did not want James to find out that he wasn't even in Harry's future, that, in fact, he would be dead in less than ten years.

"Right," James said, grinning. "But can I ask where you got that scar?" He pointed at Harry's forehead. Almost unconsciously, Harry reached up to touch his scar, which hadn't faded once he'd killed Voldemort, though he'd thought it would.

Harry grinned faintly, and then opted for a sort-of lie. "Let's just say I got it dueling," Harry said, smiling.

James laughed delightedly. "Well, did you win, at least?"

An odd look came over Harry's face, and he said, rather sadly, "Yes, I did…in the end."

James didn't seem to notice how disconcerted his son had become, and said, "Are you an Animagus?"

Harry nodded. During the war he'd studied up on Animagi and, with Professor McGonagall's help, had managed to become one. His form was that of a black panther. "Yeah, why?"

"Well, so am I—" James began, but Harry cut him off.

"I know," he said before he could stop himself.

James looked rather surprised, and said, "Well, of course you would know—you're my son. Sorry. Anyway, tomorrow's the full moon, and, well, I can't tell you all of it now, but we were wondering if you'd like to come exploring with us. We're all Animagi, except—"

"Yes, I know all about it," Harry interrupted, feeling excitement build in the pit of his stomach. "I know that you're Prongs, Sirius is Padfoot, Remus is Moony, and Peter is Wormtail, and I know the reason for all those names."

James was impressed. "Wow. How'd you find all this out? Did we tell you?"

"No, I—Do you still have the Marauder's Map?" Harry asked.

James shook his head, annoyance flashing across his features. "No, Filch, the new caretaker, confiscated it a few months ago. Bastard. We spent months working on that thing."

Harry grinned. "Well, in my day, Fred and George, the twins I was talking about, nicked it from Filch in their first year, and gave it to me when I was in third year. That's how I found out about your names. Pro—Remus explained it to me."

An evil smile lit James' face. "Did you just call Remus Professor?" he asked slyly.

Harry blushed, but didn't say anything. "Ha! I knew it!" James exclaimed. "I always knew he'd become a teacher. What does he teach?" When Harry remained tight-lipped, James resorted to begging. "Come on, it won't hurt to tell me that."

"What are you two talking about?" Sirius asked, looking over at them.

"Moony becomes a teacher," James said quickly.

"Dad!" Harry cried, reverting to calling James dad. James glanced at him quickly, an odd smile on his face.

"Oh, come on, Harry. It doesn't really matter that we know, now, does it?" James grinned.

Harry glared at him. "He teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts for one year at Hogwarts, the year I got the Marauder's map."

James nodded knowingly. "So that's why he was the one who told you about us instead of me."

Harry didn't say anything, instead choosing to concentrate on his stew. James didn't seem to take anything from his silence, and started teasing Lupin about becoming a Professor. Harry felt amused, and, at the same time, rather sick. He didn't want to leave here, didn't want to leave this time. While he missed Ron and Hermione, he'd had 7 years with them. He'd only had two with Sirius, four with Lupin, and none with his father. Never again would he have the chance to see James or Sirius again, after McGonagall figured out what spell they'd used, and the counterspell. For the first time in his life, Harry felt jealous of Malfoy. When they went home, Malfoy would still have Snape and Lucius. Harry would only have Lupin, the last of the Marauders. Harry blinked away tears, and tried to avoid thinking about it. It didn't matter to him that James was gay, or bi, or whatever he was. He was still Harry's father, and, after all, he'd married Lily, so maybe he'd gotten over whatever it was he was doing.

After lunch, Harry went to Herbology, Malfoy trailing behind him. After a few moments Malfoy decided to catch up with him. Harry glanced at him, but didn't say anything. They reached the greenhouses, and took a table together, sitting in silence for a few minutes, before Malfoy finally decided to say something.

"Why are you wearing my robes?" he asked.

Harry glanced down at himself. "Crap," he muttered. In his distraction over his annoyance with Malfoy, and James talking to him, he'd forgotten to change. "I was in such a rush this morning that I put on the wrong robes. I meant to change at lunch, but I guess I forgot."

Malfoy nodded, and they fell silent again. As the silence stretched on, Harry searched frantically for something to say, but couldn't think of anything. What do you say to your arch rival after you've just found out that your two fathers have been shacking up?

Malfoy seemed equally uncomfortable, but he made no movement to get up. Finally, unable to bear it any longer, Harry broke the silence. "Look," he said quietly. "I don't care about what our dads do, or did, or, whatever, in their free time. I don't care, and I don't want to talk about it."

"Well, neither do I!" Malfoy exclaimed, looking annoyed. "Is that why you're acting so strangely?"

"How am I acting strangely?" Harry asked in astonishment. "And how would you know how I behave?"

Malfoy shrugged. "You're just—not really talking, is all."

"What would you like to talk about?" Harry asked, annoyed. "Quidditch? Girls? How much you hate my guts?"

"I don't hate you," Malfoy said at once, and then winced, as if he hadn't meant to say that. Harry looked at him, startled.

"You don't?" he said, confused.

"No," Malfoy sighed. "I'm annoyed, sure, that you got us sent back in time, and that you continue to hang around with your idiotic friend Weasley, but no, I don't hate you."

"You're annoyed that I hang around Ron," Harry said flatly. "What about Hermione?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "I don't really care about her. In case you haven't noticed, I've stopped saying 'Mudblood'."

"I did notice," Harry said suddenly, remembering that he'd wondered about this. "I couldn't figure out why."

"Isn't it obvious?" Malfoy asked, frowning at him. "I realized that Voldemort and his pureblood mania is bullshit."

Harry was surprised. Not only because Malfoy finally saw sense about purebloods and such, but also because he'd said Voldemort's name. When he mentioned this, however, Malfoy just laughed. "I should have known a long time ago that it was ridiculous to be afraid of a name."

Harry agreed, but couldn't find it in himself to say so. Fortunately, at the moment Professor Sprout got their attention. Harry was amused to see that she too looked exactly the same, except that she was much younger, in her early twenties.

"Okay, class. Today we will be working with Toprocks. Very difficult to crack, but when you do so, they exude a gray juice which can help tame chimaeras."

"Yes, because we're all going to have _those_ traipsing around in our backyards," Draco sneered softly. Harry choked back a laugh. Professor Sprout ignored them, and began explaining how to crack the rocks, but Harry wasn't listening. Malfoy, when his jokes weren't directed at Harry or his friends, could actually be very funny. He had a dry, sardonic sort of humor, and didn't seem to take anyone or anything very seriously. He behaved as if he were above it all.

That night, as Harry took a shower, he wondered at the majesty of it all. He was going to go exploring with his father and friends tomorrow, and he was getting to see so many others that were dead, or he hadn't met yet. Harry desperately wanted to meet his mother, but was afraid that he might screw things up if he revealed that she was his mother. Maybe if he went at it from the angle that he thought she was cute, but that would just be too weird. _Oh well_, Harry thought as he turned off the water. _At least I get to meet my dad and see Sirius again._

Harry was rather hoping that Dumbledore would get back to the school before he had to leave. It would be nice to see Dumbledore again, sitting at his rightful place in the center of the hall. Harry pulled a towel off of the rack and dried himself off. It was so nice to be clean again, and smelling normal, instead of like a mixture of Malfoy and grime. Harry wrapped the towel around his waist and went out into his and Malfoy's room.

"Are you finally done?" Malfoy snapped, turning around, a textbook open in his hands. "I was beginning to wonder if—" Malfoy's voice cut off abruptly as he took in the sight of Harry standing there in nothing but a towel. The textbook slipped from his suddenly nerveless fingers. Harry grabbed his wand and quickly cast a levitation charm before the book slammed into Malfoy's bare feet. He stared at Malfoy oddly.

"Malfoy?" Harry said, frowning. "Are you okay?"

Malfoy was silent and staring for a few moments, eyes darting around nervously, before snapping out of it. "Yes," he muttered, grabbing the floating book and tossing it on the bed. "I'm fine." He pushed past Harry into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

Harry stared at the shut door, confusion etched in the lines of his face. What had that been about?

**2007**

Hermione flipped through what felt like the millionth book in the library. She felt frustration creeping over her normally optimistic view of the library. She wasn't even sure what she should be looking for! She had narrowed it down to something to do with Ancient Runes. She was looking for anything that could have caused them to disappear. So far, however, she had been unsuccessful. There were a few disappearing charms, but they were complicated, and since neither Harry nor Draco took Ancient Runes, it was nothing they could have achieved. Most likely it was a mistake.

She slammed "A Guide to Ancient Runes" closed with a sigh. She would have liked to scream more, but she knew that Madam Pince would have her head if she pulled a stunt like that.

"Nothing useful?" a voice said in her ear.

She jumped out of her skin, letting out that small scream that was lingering inside of her. She whipped around furiously, glaring at a snickering Pansy Parkinson.

"Oh, stop chuckling!" Hermione snapped. "It wasn't that funny."

"As a matter of fact, it was," Pansy said, lowering herself into her seat and brushing her blonde locks out of her face. Hermione resolutely looked anywhere but at her once-enemy's pretty face. She didn't know what these feelings that erupted inside of her whenever she saw Pansy meant, and she didn't care. All that mattered was getting Harry back, and if that meant getting Malfoy back too, fine.

"No, I haven't had any luck," Hermione muttered, gathering up her books and putting them back on the shelves.

"What's with you?" Pansy asked, leaning back in her chair, form relaxed.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, steadily concentrating on where each book should go.

"I mean you're kind of being a bitch," Pansy said casually.

"What?!" Hermione wheeled around, staring at Pansy in shock. Pansy shrugged.

"Well, you're using short, terse sentences, you refuse to look at me, and you seem about to run away as fast as you can."

"I'm not—" Hermione stuttered, but there was no denying any of this, and for that matter, now that she was looking at Pansy again, she found that speaking no longer held any appeal. Pansy grinned, perfectly aware of this, and how uncomfortable she was making Hermione. She stood up, stretching languidly.

"I never knew you were such a tight-ass, Hermione," she said in a low, seductive voice. She walked closer and slipped a hand around Hermione's waist, whispering in her ear, "But I'd love to find out." At this point Hermione's hands were shaking so badly that she could barely keep her grip on her books. Pansy gently pulled the books out of Hermione's hands, and set them on the bookshelf. "Let Pince take care of them. I'm sure she has a spell that sorts them in seconds."

"I—I don't—" Hermione was incapable of forming coherent sentences at this point. Her heart was pounding loudly, and she had goosebumps all over, making her nipples hard.

"You don't what?" Pansy murmured, allowing her hand to slide up Hermione's shirt.

"I don't—" Hermione took a deep breath. "Think we should do this here."

Pansy laughed delightedly. "Why not? Public place? Or is it that you don't want Ron to find out about you?"

"Find out what?" Hermione said, barely paying attention to what she was saying. Pansy had somehow found her way inside of Hermione's bra, and was busy running her thumb over the cold nipple of Hermione's breast. Hermione was taking deep breaths, trying to get a grip, but it wasn't working.

"That you're gay."

_That_ brought Hermione back to the present, real quick. She yanked away from Pansy, whose hand slid out from underneath her bra.

"I am NOT gay!" Hermione snarled.

Pansy had the audacity to laugh at her, before realizing that she wasn't joking. Then her face grew worried.

"Oh, Merlin," she said. "You're serious. I thought all I'd have to worry about was you not wanting to date a Slytherin. But no, it's much worse than that. You haven't even come to accept the fact that you're gay yet!"

Hermione glared at Pansy. "Why on earth would you think I'm gay?" she exclaimed. Pansy rolled her eyes.

"It's a little something we like to call gaydar, beautiful," she sighed. "When I realized that I was gay, about a year ago, suddenly it all became so clear to me who was gay and who was straight. I knew instantly that you and Potter were gay, and Draco, well, let's just say that I wouldn't be surprised if in ten years he's heading his own fashion team."

"Harry's gay?" Hermione said, confused.

"Obviously," Pansy scoffed. "Have you seen the way he looks at guys? And the girls he picks? Chang, the Weaselette? Both Quidditch players, both rather boyish. Both he realized he liked only after seeing them play Quidditch. Honestly, Hermione. With your powers of perception, I can't believe you didn't see it before."

"W-well," Hermione stammered. "I did have my suspicions in fifth year. I told Ron, but he laughed at me. After Harry's kiss with Cho, which he could only describe as "Wet", my suspicions increased, but I forgot about them. I think…I think maybe you're right."

"Of course I'm right," Pansy snapped. "I'm always right about this sort of thing. And I'm right about you," she added, taking a step closer to the scared brunette. She gently pushed her up against a low bookcase, and ran soft fingers through Hermione's bushy hair, which was surprisingly silky.

"M-maybe you're right," Hermione said, melting beneath Pansy's touch. Pansy smiled.

"There's nothing to be afraid of, beautiful," she said gently, and kissed Hermione. Hermione's eyes fluttered closed, and she kissed Pansy back, heart leaping as Pansy opened her mouth to hers.

"What are the two of you doing? Out! OUT!" Madam Pince's shriek of horror jerked them back into reality. "Take it somewhere else, honestly, kids these days!"

Pansy suppressed a chuckle as a frantic Hermione gathered up her things and rushed out of the library. Pansy took the time to make a very rude hand gesture at Madam Pince, before following Hermione out to Madam Pince's gasp of shock.

**A/N:** I kind of wanted to go into the fabulous sex that Pansy and Hermione have, but I decided that it could wait until next chapter, or the chapter after that. Anyway, there's another chapter for you. Adios!

-CatJetRat


	5. A Fluke

**A/N:** You know, I've always liked the number five, for some reason. It's just a good number, you know? For math, and all. You never have to worry about the number five. It's just…there. Perfect in its own little way. Now let's hope that this chapter is perfect too. Lol. Adios!

-CatJetRat

**Chapter 5**

**A Fluke**

**Normal POV**

The next day, as Harry was heading down to the library during a free period, someone caught his arm and pulled him aside. Startled, Harry looked around, and felt his heart freeze up as he gazed into eyes almost identical to his own.

"Harry, is it?" Lily asked.

Harry nodded mutely, unable to speak. She looked almost exactly as she had in Snape's Pensieve, except that her face had matured some.

"Do you have a free period now?" she asked.

Harry nodded again. He felt as if he had lost control of his vocal cords.

"Can we talk? I was heading down to the library," Lily said.

"O—," Harry cleared his throat. "Okay."

They went down to the library, Lily with a purposeful look on her face. She didn't seem at all perturbed by the silence, but for Harry it was excruciating. He wanted to say something, speak to her, but he didn't know what to say. They reached the library a few minutes later, and Lily led them to a private corner where they wouldn't be overheard. She sat down, back straight, and Harry felt himself nervously straightening up. She smoothed her skirt a few times, and arranged her bag (maybe she wasn't as calm as he'd thought) before looking him in the eye.

"Now," she said, clearing her throat. "It's obvious to everyone that you're James' son. You look almost exactly like him. But it was difficult to tell who your mother is. But I've been watching you these past few days. You look a lot like James, but you don't really act like him. You're more studious, and you seem a lot more…troubled. As if your childhood wasn't the easiest."

Harry laughed nervously. "You should be a psychologist," he joked.

She smiled faintly. "I wanted to be, at one point," she said. "Then I found out that I'm a witch. Now I'm leaning towards Healer, or even a wizarding psychologist."

Harry grinned. "Cool," he said. He'd always wondered what his parent's professions had been, but had always forgotten to ask someone.

Her face turned serious. "And I've seen the way you look at James and Sirius. You seem almost…pained. Like you won't see them when you go back to your time. You don't look at Remus like that. And the way you're looking at me right now. It's almost as if you've never met me."

Harry wasn't quite sure what to say to that. Recovering, he said quickly, "What makes you think I even know who you are?"

Lily laughed. "Oh, come on, Harry. It's obvious that I'm your mother."

Harry blushed. "I wasn't supposed to tell you."

She shook her head. "It doesn't matter. I'm not stupid. And you didn't tell me; I figured it out for myself. So now I have to ask you: was I a bad mother?"

"No!" Harry burst out before he could stop himself.

"Ah," Lily said, nodding. "I thought so. It makes perfect sense now, all of it. James and I die at some point during your life, probably before you get to know us."

Harry stared at her in abject astonishment. "How did you figure all of this out?" he asked. She smiled sadly.

"It wasn't hard to figure out. I've spent most of my life analyzing people's behavior, studying the way they look at others. And I've seen wives look at their husbands who are going off to war the same way you look at James, Sirius, and me."

Harry looked away from her, unsure of what he should say. Should he tell her that she was right, or wrong? Or just not say anything at all. Finally, he said, "I wanted to talk to you, but I couldn't think of a good excuse to do so."

"I thought so," she said. "It's okay, Harry. You can talk to me whenever you want to."

Harry smiled, but his heart ached. He knew now what type of mother Lily would have been, and wished more than ever that she had been there. He knew that she was wrong. He couldn't talk to her whenever he wanted. When he went back, she'd be gone.

They spent the next forty minutes talking, and by the time he had to go to Transfiguration, he knew more about Lily than anyone had ever told him. She was highly intelligent, very supportive of gay marriage, and very liberal, in the Muggle sense of the word. Her favorite color was green, her favorite food was steak, and her favorite dessert was treacle tart, like his.

Harry walked into Transfiguration, a broad smile on his face. He spotted Malfoy, who was reading a book and sitting at a table alone. Harry hadn't spoken to him since that odd incident with the shower last night, but decided to not worry about it, and walked over to him, plopping down in the chair beside him. He glanced at Malfoy and said hello. Malfoy mumbled something in response. Harry frowned, unsure why Malfoy was acting so oddly. They had been enemies, but Malfoy had confessed to not hating him, so why was he behaving as if he still did?

After about five minutes of silence, during which Malfoy did nothing but read, Harry finally said something.

"What's up with you?" he asked. Malfoy looked up quickly.

"What do you mean?" he said quietly.

"Well, you're just…not talking. And you're reading, and you barely said hi…are you okay?" Harry said, uncertain why it was bothering him so much.

For some reason, Malfoy flared up when he said this. "What makes you think that this is about you at all, Potter? Why does _everything_ have to be about you? Did it _ever_ occur to your miniscule little brain that maybe you aren't the object of my every thought and dream? Maybe I don't think about you at all! Maybe this has nothing to do with you!"

Harry was, needless to say, rather taken aback. "I didn't think it was about me," he said, confusion filling his emerald-green eyes. "You're just behaving very oddly."

Malfoy looked away, staring at his book, jaw clenching. He seemed furious, but Harry couldn't figure out why. After a few moments—

"I have to go," Malfoy said abruptly, and stood up, grabbed his things, and rushed out of the classroom, leaving Harry alone at their table, confused as hell.

After Transfiguration, Professor McGonagall asked him to stay behind. Harry paused, waiting. "Potter," she said, and grimaced.

"What?" Harry asked.

"Nothing. It's just…odd knowing that you're James' son. I actually think….When's your birthday?" she asked.

"July 31st," Harry said, bemused.

"Aha! You _are_ older than James. His birthday was in August," Professor McGonagall laughed. Harry stared at her. He never knew her to laugh when she was his teacher.

"Anyway, Potter, Professor Argyle and I figured out how to send you and Mr. Malfoy home. We just need to wait for Professor Dumbledore to arrive so that we can have the power to send you home."

Harry felt his heart sink as he gazed into her beaming face. Home…home with Ron and Hermione and the rest of the Weasleys, but home without Lily, James, or Sirius. He sank onto a desk. "When will Dumbledore be back?" he asked softly.

"Two days," she responded promptly, smiling, but at the devastated look on his face, frowned.

"Potter," she said gently. "Are you quite all right? You seem…sad."

Harry shook his head. "No, but I can't tell you because it's something from the future that I can't change."

Her face grew alarmed at this, but she didn't question him. "I see," she said. "Well, just, say your goodbyes, and tell Mr. Malfoy of what will happen."

Harry nodded numbly and left hurriedly, forgetting what his next class was. He strode right up to his room, to catch his breath, and determine what he should, or indeed, _could_ do next.

When he reached his room, however, he found that he was not alone. Malfoy was sitting on his bed, a contemplative look on his face, gazing at the opposite wall. He looked up, startled, at Harry's entrance. His face formed into an almost automatic sneer, and he opened his mouth to say something, before catching sight of the look on Harry's face.

"Potter?" he said anxiously. "What's wrong?"

"We—" Harry cleared his throat and spoke again. "Professor McGonagall figured out how to send us home. We're leaving in two days."

"Oh," Malfoy said, and then seemed to truly understand. "_Oh_." His face grew worried. "Are you okay?"

Harry shook his head, fighting off the urge to hurl. He sank down onto his bed, right across from Malfoy, sliding his bag off of his shoulder. "I—I'm just not sure what to do now. I mean—how do I make the most of this? Should I even bother with class? And if not, how do I explain why I want to spend so much time with Sirius and James? I mean, I don't…." Harry trailed off, and stared blankly at the floor. "This is my last chance," he whispered. "After we go home, I'll never get to see them again. Did you know that I met my mum? That's where I was right before Transfiguration. Talking to her, getting to know her." He laughed shortly. "She figured it all out. Why I'm acting the way I am. I don't know how, but she did." He fell silent once more. "She would have been a good mum. I wish…." Before he'd fully registered what was happening, he was crying, and Malfoy was hugging him. He had only cried once before, after Sirius had died. He supposed he must have cried as a young child, but he didn't remember it. He hadn't cried after the war, after he'd killed Voldemort, after Cedric had died. So many horrible things had happened, or were going to happen, depending on your perspective, but he was crying now, because he was fortunate enough to meet his parents and see his godfather again.

Harry's shoulders shook, and silent tears poured out of his eyes, but Malfoy didn't say a word. Not one scathing comment left his lips. He just held Harry firmly, waiting patiently for the tears to subside. And they did, after a few moments. Once the flow had stemmed completely Malfoy conjured a handkerchief and handed it to Harry, kneeling in front of him, resting his chin on his hands, which were residing on Harry's knees. Harry wiped his eyes and blew his nose, feeling embarrassed already. Once his face was dry, he was finally able to look Malfoy in the eye. Malfoy gazed at him, not laughing and trying to cheer him up as Ron would have done, or consoling him as Hermione would have done, or ignoring him as Ginny would have done. He just gazed at Harry, a sort of firm acceptance in his silver eyes. Acceptance that sometimes the world screwed you over. His mother had died in the war, so Malfoy, at least, could say he understood how Harry felt. But he didn't. He just looked at Harry, waiting for him.

Harry blinked several times, a couple more tears stinging his eyes, the tissue unfortunately already gone. Malfoy reached up and brushed away a tear with his thumb.

"Thanks," Harry said softly.

"No problem," Malfoy whispered. And then—Harry wasn't quite sure how it had happened—they were kissing.

Harry poured every thought, every pain, every hurt into that kiss, and Malfoy took all of it in, absorbing it, as if he wanted all of Harry's pain. Harry felt an odd kind of ecstasy, at just the slightest touch of lips, and then Malfoy moved his head, opening his mouth slightly, and Harry's world exploded. Wrapping an arm around Malfoy's neck, he pulled him up, and Malfoy carefully maneuvered himself until he was resting on Harry's chest, running his hand through Harry's messy hair, and kissing him so fiercely their teeth almost clacked together. Harry's world felt consumed by desire. All he wanted, all he needed was to be with the man that he was kissing. To be a part of him, to be _inside_ of him. And then a door opened. A man gasped. And suddenly Malfoy's lips and tongue were leaving, and Harry felt supreme disappointment overwhelm him as he opened his eyes. Sirius was standing in the doorway, a look of abject horror on his face. Malfoy went bright red, as did Harry a moment later, and then Malfoy was mumbling his excuses and rushing out the door. Sirius didn't leave, however. He was gazing at Harry with a most peculiar expression on his face.

"Hmm. You're more like James than I thought," he said.

Harry looked up at him, rather surprised. "You know?"

Sirius laughed slightly. "Of course I know! I've known it for longer than James has. Did you know that he had a crush on e in our 5th year? That's how I figured it out. All that flirting with Lily was just an excuse to prove his heterosexuality. I do find it rather intriguing, though, that you and he both managed to fall in love with Malfoys." Sirius sighed, and smirked, plopping down beside Harry on the bed. "You two were quite a sight, I must admit. For a moment, I thought I was watching Lucius and James."

Harry smiled faintly. "What tipped you off?" he asked. Sirius shrugged.

"Lucius' hair is longer. And James is taller than you, and I couldn't think of a good reason why they'd be snogging here."

Harry nodded, and looked away, embarrassed. "So," Sirius said conversationally. "How long have you known?"

"Known what?" Harry asked stupidly.

"That you're gay."

"I'm not!" Harry exclaimed quickly. Sirius raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, bi then," he compromised.

Harry shook his head, but a part of him felt foolish even as he did so. "I'm not," he said. "I'm straight."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Right. And I suppose you're going to tell me that Malfoy's really a girl?"

Harry grinned. "Well, he does kind of look like one."

Sirius laughed. "Yep. Just like your father. He always insists that all Malfoy boys are really girls, so he must be straight."

Harry laughed, and he felt a bit better. Sirius smiled, and then his face grew earnest. "Listen, Harry," he said. "I don't care if you're gay, straight, bisexual or asexual. Just…be honest with yourself, and others. Don't lie about who you are, because that will only ever hurt you. Your father lied about it, and it almost cost us our friendship."

Harry nodded in understanding, though there was no need for this speech, he knew, since he was, indeed, straight. That thing with Malfoy had just been…a fluke!

Sirius smiled and began to leave, but Harry caught his arm. "Wait," he said, in an almost panicked voice. "Don't leave."

Sirius turned, confusion shining through his eyes. "Harry?" he said worriedly. "Are you okay?"

"Don't fall through the veil!" Harry blurted out, unable to contain himself. "And don't fight Bellatrix."

Sirius looked definitely worried now. "What veil? And who's Bellatrix?"

Harry shook his head. "It doesn't matter who she is. And it's the veil in the Department of Mysteries. Don't fall through it."

Sirius frowned slightly. "I've heard of that veil," he said. "It's the veil between two worlds. If someone falls through, their body and soul gets trapped there for all of eternity, until someone comes to rescue them." He shook his head. "But only one wizard's ever been able to do that. And that was hundreds of years ago, back when the Department of Mysteries was first founded. The odd thing about the veil is that if you pass the necessary trials to reclaim the lost soul, you get to retrieve three people from the land of the dead, if they wish to come. It's the only known way to avert death." Sirius stared at him suspiciously. "But why do you—"

"_Obliviate!_"

Sirius staggered, and blinked, looking around, eyes unfocused. They snapped back a moment later and Sirius looked around at Harry. "As I was saying, your father lied to me, and it almost ruined our relationship."

Harry blinked, but he knew what must have happened. "All right, Sirius," he said. "Thanks for the help."

Sirius smiled warmly. "No problem," he said, and turned to leave. "Oh, hello, Professor," he said, nodding to Professor McGonagall on her way out. She smiled and greeted him, waiting until he was fully gone to speak. Harry winced, expecting a lot of yelling, but she did no such thing. She observed him through sad eyes.

"So. That's why you were so upset. Black and, possibly your father are dead in your time. I'm sorry."

Harry nodded and looked down. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, trying to sound ashamed, but inside he was bubbling with excitement. There was a way to bring Sirius, and possibly his father and Lily back! "I shouldn't have told him that."

She shook her head. "No matter. But I'm glad I was able to Obliviate him when I could. Now, I have some grading to do. I expect you'll want to find Mr. Malfoy." As she said this, her eyes glinted in a rather disturbing way. Harry gulped. "Goodbye."

She left. Harry slumped down onto his bed, mind churning. He would have to do some research of course, but now he finally knew that there was a way to bring back Sirius and his parents! Harry tried to avoid thinking about Malfoy, and how nice his lips had felt, and instead concentrated on saving Sirius, and his parents.

**A/N:** Not bad. Next chapter he'll go roaming with his father and the marauders. Well, review! Adios!

-CatJetRat


	6. Exploring Home

**A/N:** Six, six, six. Does six mean anything? It's a cool number, divisible by one, two, three and six. How 'bout that? Anyway, enjoy! Adios!

-CatJetRat

**Chapter 6**

**Exploring Home**

**Normal POV**

**2007**

"What do you mean, she's your girlfriend?!" Ron shouted at a resolute Hermione. "I thought you and I were—"

"You never said we were!" Hermione snapped. "Besides, we've never even kissed. How does that count?"

"So you're gay?" Ron asked in disbelief. Hermione winced, but only slightly.

"Yes," she said flatly. "I am. Well, I'm going with bi now, but I'm gay for Pansy."

Ron mock-gagged, and Hermione glared at him. He grinned briefly. "Whatever. So long as she makes you happy. But just remember that I'll be happy to beat her up for you when she reverts back to her true Slytherin self." Hermione laughed, relieved that he was taking this as well as he was. Now there was only Ginny to tell….

Hermione steeled herself and went to find her redheaded friend. Hopefully she would be just as accepting as Ron. When she had located Ginny and told her, however, she wasn't just as accepting as Ron. She was much more accepting.

"This is great!" she cried. "Now you'll be interested in Quidditch too!"

"Um," Hermione stammered. "I don't think it quite works that way, Ginny."

Ginny laughed. "I know; I was just kidding. But seriously, if Pansy hurts you, I'll beat her with my broomstick for you."

Hermione laughed, amused that this was almost exactly what Ron had said to her. She wasn't surprised that Ginny didn't care, because she was Ron's sister, but she had no clue how Harry would react, if they ever found him. As she thought about him, her gut twisted in worry. Where was he? Why couldn't they find him, and why wasn't the Headmistress more concerned?

**1980**

Harry crept through the hallways underneath his invisibility cloak, heading towards the planned meeting point with the marauders. He'd left at about eleven, after finishing his homework. Malfoy hadn't returned to their room, and he hadn't seen his blond roommate at dinner either. Harry tried not to think about him, but that was proving a difficult task. Every two seconds it felt as if he was reliving that kiss, forbidden though it might have been. Harry shook his head, as if by doing so he could shake the thoughts away like an irksome fly, but it didn't work. Hopefully when he was exploring with the others he would forget all about it.

He carefully pushed the door open and snuck outside. Once he was a few feet away from the door he broke into a joyous run, stopping only when he reached the Whomping Willow. He grabbed a branch and pushed the knob on the tree, and its flailing branches froze. He carefully walked into the secret passageway in the tree, and straightened up. Pulling off his cloak, he stowed it in his bag and hid it in the little space James had told him about. Before he went any further, he transformed into his panther shape and shook himself out. As a panther, he had bright green eyes, jet-black fur, circles around his eyes for his glasses, and a white patch of fur on his forehead shaped like a lightening-bolt, for his scar.

Harry stretched out luxuriously, and yawned. He loved being in cat form. It was amazing how far his long legs would carry him, and all of his senses were heightened ten-fold. Everything seemed much brighter, and he could smell things his human nose could never, hear things he'd never heard before. Once, when he was lying still, he thought he heard an ant walking.

The moon wasn't out yet, so Remus should still be in human form. Sure enough, when Harry finally entered the Shrieking Shack, Remus was still in human form though he was crouched over and his face was screwed up in pain. Harry glanced out the window, able to discern with his cat eyes that moonrise was only a few minutes away. He looked around at the others, feeling his heart twist at the sight of them. Prongs was large and magnificent, brown in color, unlike Harry's silver Patronus, but nonetheless beautiful. Padfoot looked much like he had in dog form when Harry known him, except that his fur shone a bit brighter. Probably, Harry realized sadly, because he hadn't gone to Azkaban yet. He glanced at Wormtail, who looked so like Scabbers, and it was difficult to fight off the urge to capture him, when he was back in the Shrieking Shack, the place where he had discovered Sirius' innocence. Wormtail looked much the same, except that his finger wasn't missing. _The finger he cut off to incriminate Sirius_, Harry thought viciously, and then realized that his claws were flexed, and his teeth bare, a small growl emanating from his throat. He relaxed immediately. No reason to cause the others concern.

A howl interrupted his musings. His gaze shot towards Remus, who was reverting to wolf form. His jaw lengthened, and his teeth grew sharp and large. Fur began to grow along his body, and a tail sprouted from his behind. Two seconds later, he was a full wolf. He looked almost exactly like a wolf, except there were minute differences in his snout and tail and teeth that showed him for what he was. Harry couldn't remember those differences, unfortunately. Had Hermione been there, Harry felt certain that she could have pointed them out to him. But that was not to be worried about at the present. The others tensed, and Padfoot and Prongs walked carefully around him. Moony gazed at them suspiciously, but they communicated with him through their body movements, and the looks in their eyes. Soon, Moony calmed down, and Harry could see Remus in there, overtaking his wolf side. Together, Wormtail riding Prongs' back, they crept out from the Shrieking Shack, and emerged onto the grounds.

It was a clear, beautiful night. The moon shone through the trees and cast its reflection upon the still water of the lake, broken only by the movement of Grindylows. They moved stealthily across the grounds, going far away from the castle and into the forest. Once they were far enough away, Padfoot let out a joyous bark and bounded among the trees, play fighting with Moony. Wormtail leapt off of Prong's back and scurried away to do his own thing, but Harry could not see what it was. He joined Prongs, who looked him over, impressed. Glancing up to make sure that Padfoot and Moony were far enough away, he reverted back to his human form.

Running his fingers along Harry's fur, James walked around him a few times before squatting in front of him, staring into Harry's green panther eyes.

"I know the perfect name for you," James said quietly, and Harry felt a thrill of excitement. It was one thing to run with them at night, but quite another to have a name like them. In giving him a name, James was essentially making him part of the group. "Your name should be…Stealth."

Harry's heart slammed into his ribs. It was the perfect name. Merlin, it was the perfect name. They were interrupted by a howl, and James quickly turned back into Prongs. He and Stealth crept towards Padfoot and Moony, who were still play-wrestling. Prongs relaxed, and joined in the fight. Stealth hung back uncertainly, but Padfoot motioned for him to join in, and, with a small hiss, he did so.

That night was one Harry thought he would never forget. After they were finished playing around, the five of them walked around the castle, exploring old passageways. They went to Hogsmeade, and Wormtail broke into the shop and stole some fudge for them all to share. Stealth and Padfoot held their winnings in their mouths and they bounded away before the shop owner could come to investigate. Storing the fudge in the Shrieking Shack, they went back to the castle grounds and went swimming in the lake. Well, Padfoot, Prongs, and Moony did. Wormtail chose to take a nap at the lakeside, and Stealth, being essentially a giant cat, chose to abstain from this and climbed up a big tree overhanging the lake, and stretched out on it, watching the others swim.

It seemed that moonset approached too quickly. Stealth was the first to detect the dying rays, and motioned to the others, who nodded and followed him. Prongs woke Wormtail, who leapt onto his back, and they trotted off together, back towards the Whomping Willow.

Just as they reached the Shrieking Shack, the moon set, and, with a whine, Moony went back to his human form. Once he was done, he hurriedly dressed, and the others reverted to their human forms too.

"That was brilliant!" Sirius cried gleefully, grabbing for the chocolate fudge.

"That was pretty neat," Peter admitted, reaching for his own fudge.

"See, Harry, usually we don't detect moonset in time, so often Remus becomes human outside of the Whomping Willow," James explained.

"Yeah," Sirius said through a mouthful of fudge. "How did you do that, anyway?"

Harry grinned. "I have a panther's vision, and so I can detect minute changes in the light. I could basically see when the moon was starting to fade."

"That's awesome!" Wormtail exclaimed.

"Yeah," James said, grinning. "What are we going to do when you go home?"

Harry's smile faded; he had been trying to not think about going home. "I don't know," he said softly. The others seemed oblivious to his preoccupation, however.

"What are we going to call you?" Remus wondered, finally speaking. It seemed as if he had finally started to recover from being a wolf.

"Oh, I've thought of a name," James said.

"Well?" Sirius said impatiently. "Out with it already!"

James grinned. "Stealth."

Sirius grinned. "Perfect." He glanced at the others. "What do you three think? Moony? Wormtail?"

"I like it," Peter said shyly.

"Me too," Remus said softly.

"I think it's perfect," Harry said, trying to stop a ridiculously big smile from crossing his face.

"Great!" James exclaimed. "Then we're settled. "Now we're Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Prongs, and Stealth. I wish we had the Map. We could change the name."

"Actually," Harry said, pulling a sheet of blank parchment out of his pocket, "I have the map from my time."

"Really?" James exclaimed, taking it from him. "Wicked!" He pulled out his wand and waved it over the parchment several times. After a few moments, the others joined in, and then beckoned for Harry to come forth. Harry pulled out his wand uncertainly, and then felt something being pulled from it. After a moment, it stopped, and the others put their wands away. Harry took the map from James, and tapped it with his wand.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," Harry muttered. The map appeared, and at the top, where it had previously said, "Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs," now it said, "Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Prongs, and Stealth."

Harry felt his heart constrict, and tears sting his eyes. He waved his wand, mumbling, "Mischief Managed," and held back his tears. He looked up at them. "This…this means a lot to me," he said.

James smiled and hugged him. Sirius joined in, and then Remus. Harry actually found that he didn't even mind it when Peter did too. Then Sirius grinned. "I've got an idea," he said, and bounded over to the far wall. Standing on his tiptoes, he pulled a knife out of his pocket, and carved his nickname into the wall. "Now the rest of you sign! This way, when Harry goes back, there'll be evidence of our adventures!"

James grinned. "Brilliant, Sirius," he said, and wrote his nickname next to Sirius'. One by one, they all did, and Harry signed his next. He smiled at them, and Sirius put his knife away.

Harry and the others went up quietly to the school, parting ways when they reached Harry's room. Harry nodded at them, and crept into his room. Malfoy was asleep on an armchair, but at the sound of the door opening and closing, woke with a start.

"What?" he muttered confusedly. Then he caught sight of Harry. "Potter!" he snarled furiously. "Where have you been?"

"Out," Harry said simply, giving him a strange look.

"_Where_?" Malfoy exclaimed.

"What does it matter?" Harry asked him.

"You've been out all night!" Malfoy shouted.

"Merlin!" Harry said, taken aback. "I was with my father and his friends, if you must know. We were exploring the grounds."

Malfoy paused, frowning. "Wait—," he said. "You're an Animagus?"

"How'd you know?" Harry asked, astonished.

"In our third year, when Severus told us about Lupin being a werewolf, he told me that your father, Peter Pettigrew, and Sirius Black became Animagi so they could make Lupin's experience as a werewolf a little less painless, and that they went exploring on the full moon with Lupin. Last night was a full moon, and if you were with them, you must have been in Animagus form," he concluded.

"Wow," Harry said, impressed. "Your powers of deduction are almost as good as Hermione's."

Malfoy scowled, and then shook his head. "What's your form?" he asked.

Harry debated telling him, and then decided that it couldn't hurt. He then transformed into a panther. Malfoy's eyes shot up, and then he did something entirely unexpected. He too reverted to panther form. But there were differences in the two. Malfoy's fur was a very rare, pale white. His eyes were silver, and his nose was pink, instead of black, like Harry's. He walked around Harry in a predatory way, finally sitting down in front of him. They stared at each other for a long moment, and then they both transformed back into humans.

"Wow," Harry said softly, unsure of what else he might say.

Malfoy nodded fervently. "That's really weird." He stood up, and held out a hand to Harry, who took it, allowing himself to be pulled up. Once they were standing, however, Malfoy didn't let go of his hand.

"Malfoy?" Harry said uncertainly.

"You should call me Draco," Malfoy muttered, looking away.

"Draco," Harry whispered, his heart hammering into his ribs, though he wasn't sure why. Draco looked back up at him, and they stared into each other's eyes.

"Do you think it's odd," Draco said softly, "That when you combine our eye colors, you get the Slytherin House colors?"

"I don't know," Harry murmured. "Do you think it's strange that our first and last names are the same length?"

Draco gazed at him for a few seconds longer, and then pulled away. "Come on," he muttered. "We'll be late for class."

Harry nodded, feeling an odd sense of mingled relief and disappointment. He changed clothes, rather wishing he'd had time to take a shower, and went down to breakfast with Draco. He joined his father and friends at the table, where they discussed the night's events. They planned to go out again that same night. Harry glanced at Draco, who was talking in a low voice with his father, determinedly not looking at Harry. Harry glanced away, and looked back towards Sirius, James, Peter, and Remus.

That night Harry went exploring with the four others again, using a sleep spell which Remus taught him, which made him able to put off sleep for a couple of days, if he needed too. Harry told Draco where he was going, and he nodded, continuing to work on his homework.

It was a time to remember. Harry cherished every moment he was with his father and Sirius, knowing, with a pang, that he would never be able to do this again.

When he went back to his room the next morning, Draco was asleep in bed. Harry spared him a long look, before getting undressed. He had just gotten a towel around his waist, about to take a shower, when Professor McGonagall walked in.

"Oh, good, you're awake," she said, ignoring his state of undress. "Take your shower, and then wake Mr. Malfoy, and come up to Professor Dumbledore's office. We're ready to send you home."

"Now?" Harry said, startled, as his brain went into overdrive. He hadn't had time to say goodbye to the others, and he would never see them again!

"Yes," said Professor McGonagall gently. "But you may have time to say goodbye, if you wish."

"Thank you, Professor," Harry said, relieved. Draco had woken up sometime during this conversation, and was now staring at Harry intently. She nodded curtly to the both of them, and left. There was a ringing silence in her wake.

"Are you okay?" Draco asked softly. Harry nodded, and went into their bathroom to take a shower.

After he was done, he dressed, and went down to breakfast, where the others were there sitting. He sat down heavily, avoiding looking at food, worried he might puke if he did.

"Are you okay, mate?" Sirius asked worriedly. "You look like you're about to heave."

Harry shook his head and smiled weakly. "I'm fine," he said. "But I have to leave." There was no mistaking the meaning in his words.

"But…" James trailed off, looking shocked. "But we're going out again, tonight! What will we do if you aren't there to tell us when the moon is going down?"

Harry shook his head, and shrugged, swallowing the growing lump in his throat. "I don't know," he laughed weakly.

"Here," Sirius said. "I've got an idea." He pulled out his knife again, and pulled up the sleeve on his right arm. Into it he carved five lines, all intersecting each other to form a sort of star.

"Sirius!" James exclaimed. "What—?"

"Don't worry," Sirius said, shaking his head, and he waved his wand, and the cuts healed, but left a visible scar. "Now we all do it!"

The others were reluctant, Peter most of all, but after ten minutes they all had star-shaped scars on their right forearms.

"There!" Sirius said triumphantly. "Now we'll always be connected."

James rolled his eyes, and Harry laughed. Remus grinned, and Peter smiled tentatively.

"I have to go," Harry said reluctantly, standing up. The others stood too. Peter hugged Harry first, and Harry found himself hugging him back, in spite of it all. Remus hugged him next, and Harry smiled, knowing that of all the Marauders, at least he would see Remus again.

Sirius came after Remus, and Harry had a hard time choking back tears. Sirius has been like a father figure to Harry, and now, with the thought that he might never see him again—

Harry pushed back the thought and hugged him tightly. Then Sirius pulled away, and there was James, standing there, sad, but resolute. They hugged each other hard. "I'm glad you're my son," James whispered in Harry's ear, and Harry felt, against his will, a solitary tear roll down his cheek. He nodded, and they broke apart. Harry stood back, looking at the Marauders standing there, and then turned around, leaving the hall. He was afraid that he might very well break down if he didn't.

He walked up to Dumbledore's office, his bag over his shoulder. He muttered the password to the gargoyle, and went up the winding staircase. He knocked on the door, feeling a thrill at hearing Dumbledore's voice say, "Enter."

He walked in, and saw Dumbledore, McGonagall, Professor Argyle, and Draco Malfoy all standing there. Dumbledore smiled sadly at him, eyes twinkling. Harry's heart jerked in his chest at the sight of the wise old eyes looking back at him. Too much, it was too much. Too many dead people that he cared about, that he was being faced with again. He felt as if his heart might explode.

"Hello, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said. "It seems as if you and Mr. Malfoy have gotten yourselves lost." Harry nodded, not trusting his voice with words. "Well, if the two of you will just step into that circle there, we can send you back home."

Harry nodded, feeling his heart constricting again, horrified at this entire situation. He stepped into the circle with Malfoy. Dumbledore opened the book he was holding to recite the verse which would send them home. He and the other two professors began to speak the spell, and Harry's heart grew anxious. Right as they were about the go, Harry cried, "The locket was already gone, Professor Dumbledore! And Pettigrew was the traitor, not Sirius!" Harry had just enough time to register the look of bewilderment on Dumbledore's face, before he and Malfoy were swept up into oblivion.

**A/N:** Ooh. Will this change everything? Or will it change anything at all? Review, and you get to find out! Lol. Adios!

-CatJetRat


	7. Changes

**A/N:** Ah, seven. The most magical number. The number of Horcruxes Voldemort has. Lol. Anyway, here's the seventh chapter! Adios!

-CatJetRat

**Chapter 7**

**Changes**

**Normal POV**

**2007**

"You idiot!" Draco screamed as they flew through time. "Do you have any idea what you've done? You could have changed everything! We could be going home to a world where Voldemort reigns! You are SUCH an imbecile!"

Before Harry could reply, they landed heavily. Disoriented and confused, they looked around. They were in the Head office, and nothing had really changed. Except…Harry's heart sank as his gaze fell on the face of Minerva McGonagall. Draco leapt up.

"Did he change anything?" Draco asked furiously.

"No, Mr. Malfoy, no need to worry," Professor McGonagall said. "Lord Voldemort is still defeated and," here her voice changed, as she look at Harry with pity. "Professor Dumbledore, Sirius Black, James Potter, and Peter Pettigrew are still dead. I'm sorry; Mr. Potter, but you changed nothing. I know that you wished to." Harry nodded and looked down, heaviness in his heart.

"Harry," said a voice from behind him. Harry jerked up and turned around. Standing there, a saddened expression on his face, was Remus Lupin. Harry's face crumpled and he rushed towards Lupin, who wrapped him in a hug. "Harry, Harry," he murmured. "I'm so sorry."

At this, Harry broke down, dissolving into the tears that he had suppressed for so long. After a few minutes, he pulled away, wiping his face. Remus smiled at him oddly. "It's so strange. To you, our adventures just ended. To me, they ended 27 years ago." He pulled up the sleeve on his right arm. There shone the scar Sirius had convinced them to carve into their arms. Harry pulled his up to, and there was a matching scar. Remus smiled sadly, letting his sleeve drop. "We're the last two with this scar."

Harry shrugged, trying not to think about it. "I'm sorry," he said. "I tried to change it all. I just…couldn't."

"It's not your fault," Remus said harshly. "Things happened the way they did. It was no one's fault but Lord Voldemort, and Peter." Harry nodded, knowing that he was right.

"Now," Remus said, standing up. "I must go. Tonks and Riley are waiting," he said, referring to his wife and son. Harry stood up too, and hugged him again. "Farewell, Harry," Remus said gently, and then pulled away, flooing from the office. Harry stood there, unsure of himself, unsure of what to do.

"I suggest that you and Mr. Malfoy go back to your dormitories," Professor McGonagall interrupted his musings. He glanced at her startled, and he nodded. He and Malfoy left her office, going downstairs. Once they arrived outside of the gargoyle, they stood there uncertainly. Harry looked at Draco, who met his gaze steady on.

"Do you…want to go see if our room is still there?" Harry asked, for some reason not wanting to leave the blond.

Draco nodded quickly, and they went straight to their old room. Much to Harry's surprise, it hadn't gone. They cracked the door open and went inside. Other than the layer of dust over everything, the room looked untouched. Malfoy glanced at his bed, and exclaimed. He went over there and picked up a long, black, dusty belt. "I must have forgotten it," he said, turning it over in his hands. It was cracking at he moved it. "_Reparo_," he murmured, and then the belt was as good as new. He shrank it and put it in his pocket. They looked around the room once more and left. Outside they stood there awkwardly. Finally, Harry spoke.

"I don't want to go back," he said abruptly. "I don't want things to be as they were. I'm not sure if I could stand it."

Draco just looked at him, and then said, "I've got an idea. Meet me at the Shrieking Shack tonight, all right?" Harry stared at him quizzically, but nodded. Draco took Harry's hand. Harry looked at him, startled. "You'll be okay," he said gently. "I know you will." He pulled Harry towards him and kissed him on the lips again. Harry felt goose bumps erupt on his skin and he began to shake, badly. Then Draco moved away and turned around walking back to the dungeons, leaving Harry stunned behind him.

**1980**

James sat glumly at his rendezvous point with Lucius, waiting for him to come. A moment later, warm arms snaked around him, and he sighed, leaning into the embrace. Lucius planted butterfly kisses along his temple. James felt tempted to give up this insane venture, but then he thought of Harry, and knew it must be done. James pulled away and turned around to face Lucius, who instantly knew something was up.

"What's wrong?" he asked gently, running a finger down the side of James' face. James pulled away.

"I can't…do this anymore," he said in a broken voice.

Lucius stared at him for a few seconds, as if hoping he'd say he was joking, and then his face hardened. "I see," he said in a cold voice.

"It's not what you think," James pleaded desperately.

"I don't care," Lucius said flatly, and turned around, walking quickly away from James, though both their hearts were breaking.

The next week, James Potter asked Lily Evans out, and she agreed. They became boyfriend and girlfriend soon after that.

During Easter break, Lucius went to a man he had heard of through some of his more iniquitous contacts. He gave the man, who called himself Lord Voldemort, his allegiance, and allowed himself to be branded on his left forearm. He became one of the first Death Eaters, and chose to be engaged to a woman named Narcissa Black, to continue the pureblood line.

Ten years later, within less than two months of each other, Narcissa Malfoy and Lily Potter each gave birth to a baby boy. Lucius named his child Draco, meaning dragon, and James named his son Harry, after his great-grandfather. A year later, James and Lily Potter were murdered by Lord Voldemort, the man Lucius had pledged allegiance to. James and Lucius never met between the time they broke up, and the time James was murdered.

And this is the story of how love tore two men apart.

**2007**

**Pansy's POV**

I followed Hermione suspiciously up the stairs to her private room. Being Head Girl, she had privileges such as a private room.

"So what is this big surprise?" I asked casually. Hermione hid a smile by turning her face away.

"Now, now, Pansy, if I told you, would it be a surprise?" she asked lightly.

I scowled. I despised surprises. To me, they were ridiculous. Honestly, what was the point of a surprise? It was just a delay of knowledge that you would eventually obtain anyway, so what was the point of holding it out? I debated saying as much to Hermione, but then we had reached her room.

"Close your eyes," she said. When I just glared at her, she sighed, and came up behind me, placing her warm hands over my eyes, her breasts brushing up against my back. I snuck a hand behind me to cop a feel, but she was having none of it.

"_Later_," she said, and pushed open her door, guiding me into her room. A moment later, she removed her hands from my eyes and I opened them. My breath caught as I found that I was entirely wrong about surprises. This one was _lovely_.

There were chocolate-covered cherries and fresh strawberries next to a bowl of chocolate and whipped cream set up on a tray next to blankets on the soft, carpeted floor. Enchanted candles lined the walls, giving the room a soft, romantic feel. And there were two roses, each containing two different colors, one was green and gold, and the other was red and silver. Hermione moved around me and picked them up, handing me the green and gold one. She smiled at me, and I can honestly say I have never seen a more beautiful sight than that of her, standing there, candlelight reflecting off of her gorgeous features.

"They're to symbolize the unity of Gryffindor and Slytherin," she explained. When I just stared at her, she began to look worried. "Do you not like it? I mean, I thought—"

Her sad voice broke my heart into a million pieces and I walked over to her, removed the rose from her hand, and tossed both on the bed. Then I slipped my arms around her slender waist, and kissed her.

"Oh," she said breathlessly, once I pulled away. "Good, you did like it. I'd hoped you would."

I grinned and pushed her back onto the covers. She slipped from my arms and began to fall, but right before she hit the floor, I caught her, and maneuvered myself on top of her. I began to kiss her fiercely, and then moved to her neck, sucking for all I was worth. She groaned, and I unbuttoned her shirt, underneath which was no bra. The shirt had been tight to begin with, and when I opened it her nipples were hard and squished. I was tempted to just sit and admire their beauty for a while. I sat back and gazed at their shape, and Hermione's quivering body, right beneath mine. This went straight to my groin, and I instantly became wet, and ready. But thought my body might be ready, my mind certainly wasn't.

I ran a finger down between her breasts and all the way down her stomach to her pants, which were unfortunately still there. I pulled my wand out and muttered a spell. The pants instantly disappeared.

"Why, Hermione Granger," I said, delighted at my little discovery. "I would never have pegged you as one to go commando."

She blushed. "I thought it be interesting to try it once." She grinned, and said boldly, "I think I like it."

"I definitely do," I smirked. My hand, which had been creeping up between Hermione's legs, grazed her opening, and she gasped appropriately. I pushed one finger inside of her and she groaned, throwing her head back. The sounds she made caused my heart rate to quicken, and my desire increased tenfold. I pushed a second and third finger in and she gasped, wincing slightly, and then pushed herself onto my fingers, moaning as I thrust them up inside of her. Her hand reached out wildly and caught a hold of my shoulder. She pulled me closer and reached a hand inside my shirt, rubbing my breasts.

That did it. I pulled my fingers out of her, and licked them clean. Honestly, it tasted good to me. Then I pulled off all of my clothes as quickly as I could and got on top of her. I began to ride her, hard and fast, and she moaned loudly with each rock. Then, just as we were about to come….

The door opened, and Weasley rushed in. "Hermione!" he cried. "Harry's—" and then he caught sight of what we were doing. "—back," he finished weakly.

"That's great, Weasley," I groaned, since Hermione seemed incapable of speech. "Now will you get the hell out? We'll be down in two minutes." He nodded faintly and left the room.

I groaned and continued rocking, faster than ever, and came two seconds later, Hermione moments after me. We lay there, a tangled mass of sweaty limbs, and I pulled myself up, kissing her sweetly on the lips.

"Come on," I whispered. "We should go. Apparently your boy's back." Despite this, of course, what I really wanted was to stay with her and fuck the night away. Most unfortunately, we couldn't. So we dressed, made ourselves presentable, and went downstairs.

**Normal POV**

"Harry!" Hermione squealed, rushing down the stairs. "Where have you been? I've been so _worried_!" And on 'worried', she collided roughly with Harry, hugging him so tightly he thought he might choke.

He laughed and hugged her back, and then glanced behind her, seeing Pansy Parkinson, right behind her, looking flushed, sweaty, and out of breath. Harry frowned. What on earth was she doing here? No one seemed at all surprised by her presence.

"Potter, where's Draco?" she asked frankly. "He disappeared at the same time you did."

"He's probably in the Slytherin dormitory," Harry said. "We accidentally traveled through time together using some Ancient Rune, and we just got back."

"Of course you did," Hermione sighed. Pansy just looked annoyed.

"Wonderful, Potter," she muttered. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to attend to my friend, who you dragged through time."

Harry wasn't sure what response to give to this, since, unfortunately, it was true, and just stood there watching as Pansy kissed Hermione goodbye, waved to Ron, glared at Ginny, and left. Harry stared at Hermione, eyebrows raised, as the reason for her disheveled appearance became unfortunately clearer by the second.

"I think we both have some explaining to do," he said, crossing his arms. She sighed and nodded.

Draco entered the Slytherin common room, an odd sense of loss entering his stomach, so much that it actually hurt. He sank down onto one of the leather chairs, running his fingers through his white-blond hair, still slightly damp from his shower. He paused, realizing that technically he had taken his shower twenty-seven years ago. He groaned and leaned his head against the back of the couch. A person could go mad thinking about all of this!

"Draco?"

Draco's head snapped up and swiveled around to face his Potions professor. He was startled at the sight. He had never truly taken the time to see how many scars the war had inflicted upon Severus, but now, seeing him so soon after seeing him as a teenager…it was rather startling, to say the least. Severus' gaze was softer than he had ever seen it, even after Draco's mother died.

"Are you okay, Draco?" Severus asked, sitting beside him.

Draco nodded, but then shook his head. "I'm so bloody worried about him!" Draco exclaimed.

Severus frowned. "Who?" he asked.

"Harry!" Draco fell silent and bit his tongue. He hadn't meant to say that, any of it.

"Why are you worried about Potter?" Severus asked, a peculiar look in his eyes.

Draco gave a half-hearted shrug. "Because," he muttered. "Potter just saw his parents, and…now he'll never get to see them again, or Black, his godfather. I didn't even see my mother. I'm glad. I think that if I did, I might have burst out crying." Draco looked away, determined not to let Severus catch the tears already brimming his silver eyes. Draco blinked several times, and they went away. Severus sighed.

"I'm sorry, Draco," he said. "I wanted to talk to you so many times about you going back, but I knew I couldn't. It was…odd, at least, seeing you turning into the person that I met when I was seventeen. I often wondered at the strangeness of it all."

Draco looked back at his teacher, and godfather. "Why did Lucius marry my mother?" he asked abruptly. Snape's eyes narrowed.

"What do you mean?" he asked carefully.

"I mean, why did he? I know he's gay, I mean, I caught him on more than one occasion with his…cohorts. And I know who he was involved with when he was seventeen. Potter and I caught them together when we were exploring the school at night."

Severus frowned. "Why were you and Potter exploring the school, together, at night?"

Draco shook his head quickly. "It's not what you think," he said, only half-lying. He suspected that a part of him had wished it _was_ what Severus was thinking, but he couldn't—_wouldn't_ go there right now. "I caught him trying to sneak out alone and wanted to go with him. I wanted to see what the school was like back then, so we went together, under Potter's invisibility cloak."

Severus sighed deeply, staring off into space. When he spoke, his voice was laced with regret. "Lucius and James got together at the beginning of their sixth year. They had both recently discovered their sexuality. One day James and Lucius got into a fight, in a corridor alone. Lucius' bag got broken in the process, and everything spilled out, including a copy of a gay wizard's publication. Lucius was horrified, and tried to deny it all. James startled him by kissing him. From there it took off. They met in secret corridors, skipping the classes they didn't like, sometimes missing meals. No one else thought anything of it, but I was close enough to Lucius that I noticed him leaving his bed at night to go exploring more and more often. I noticed the skipped classes and meals. It didn't take a genius to figure out something was going on. It was a bit later that I began to realize Lucius and James were missing at the same time. I followed Lucius one night, and discovered his secret. He asked me to not tell anyone, so I didn't. I imagine Black knew as well, but I never asked him. One night in their seventh year, Lucius came back to the common room. I was the only one in there, studying late." Severus looked down, and there was a strange sorrow in his voice as he told Draco the rest. "That was the only time I've ever seen Lucius cry. James had broken up with him, for reasons Lucius didn't stay to hear. Shortly after their break up Lucius joined the Dark Lord, and married Narcissa." Severus spread his hands unhappily. "It is my belief that James broke up with Lucius to give birth to Harry."

"Merlin," Draco whispered, horror coloring his tone. "Lucius and James broke up because Harry and I went through time. If we hadn't…we wouldn't even exist."

Severus nodded. "It is an unhappy paradox, and a difficult question. Had the two of you not gone, you might not exist. In essence, you created yourselves."

Severus bowed his head, clasped Draco's shoulder, and left, leaving his godson to contemplate the confusion of it all.

**A/N:** I've always been fascinated by the paradox of time travel, and it was fun exploring it here. Only one or two more chapters left! Adios!

-CatJetRat


	8. Of Hopes and Dreams

**A/N:** New chapter, new chapter! I'm not sure if this will be the last chapter or not. I guess we'll see! Adios!

-CatJetRat

**Chapter 8**

**Of Hopes and Dreams**

**Epilogue**

**Normal POV**

Harry crept from his bed, careful not to wake his roommates, and donned his invisibility cloak. He walked quickly and quietly down the stairs, and entered the common room. The dying fire illuminated Hermione, passed out on the couch, resting her face against a book. Harry grinned, knowing how horrified Hermione would be in the morning after seeing the crinkled pages.

He opened the portrait and walked out, glancing behind him once. The Fat Lady was gone. Hopefully she'd be there by the time he got back. He wasn't even sure why he was going on this insane venture. Just because Draco—Malfoy,_ Malfoy_—had asked him to didn't mean that he should. It could be a trap for all he knew.

But something compelled him to walk on, to leave the school, press the knob on the Whomping Willow with a stick, and disappear into the tree. His heart leapt as he remembered that he and the marauders had carved their initials into one of the walls of the Shrieking Shack. Hopefully he'd get a chance to look at it.

When he got to the Shack, Draco was examining the place, a distasteful look on his face. Harry grinned.

"I'll bet your place is a bit more posh, is it?" Harry said.

Draco jumped, but quickly brushed away his surprise. "Certainly," he said in a dignified voice, one that made Harry's smile widen.

"So why'd you want to meet me here?" he asked, walking over to the wall where he and the others had carved their names. Smiling at the mystery of it all, he traced the faded letters of his father's name, as well as his own.

Draco shook his head. "I'll tell you in a moment," he said. "First—there's something Professor Snape told me that I think you should know." And, as Harry listened in rapt attention, Draco laid out the time paradox.

"We created ourselves," he whispered. "Wow." It made his heart ache, however, as he realized what James had sacrificed to give birth to him. He lowered his gaze.

"So your dad was a Death Eater because my dad broke his heart?" Harry said, frowning. "That…well, frankly that sucks."

Draco laughed briefly and sighed. "And it's all our fault," he murmured.

"Mine more than yours," Harry said bluntly. "I was the one who got us sent back in the first place."

"Yeah, but if you hadn't, we would be nonexistent," Draco pointed out, and Harry grimaced.

"I don't know how to feel about this," he shuddered. "I'd rather not think about it right now, if that's okay."

"Sure," Draco said.

"So why'd you originally want me here?" Harry asked.

"What makes you think that wasn't the reason?" Draco said slyly.

Harry frowned. "Because you wanted to meet me before Snape told you anything."

"How do you know?" Draco asked.

"Because you were with me the entire time up until you told me to meet you!" Harry exclaimed, exasperated.

"Oh," Draco grinned, and Harry was infuriated to realize that Draco had been trying to annoy him. "You got me there." He shrugged. "I just thought we could go exploring, you know, to celebrate the memory of your dad and his friends."

"I…guess," Harry said, startled. He hadn't exactly expected Draco to say that.

"Or," Draco said, moving towards him, "We could do this." He caught Harry's chin with his hand and kissed him. Harry's heart felt like it might stop again. Draco ran his fingers down Harry's face and pushed him against the wall. Harry gasped and leaned into the kiss. He opened his eyes at one point, though, and that proved the end of it all.

He was kissing Draco Malfoy. He was_ kissing_ Draco Malfoy. He was kissing_ Draco Malfoy_! What, in Merlin's name, was he thinking?

Harry tore away from Draco, who looked startled.

"Harry," he said uncertainly. "What—?"

But Harry didn't stick around to hear the question. He tore out of there as fast as his legs would carry him. He ran through the tunnel, out of the Whomping Willow, until he finally collapsed beside the lake.

Harry ran his fingers through his hair, and found that his hands were shaking. Merlin, he could still _feel_ Draco's lips on his! Harry sighed heavily, hating to admit that he enjoyed that far more than anything he and Ginny had ever done. Okay, okay. So he was gay. It wasn't that difficult to figure out, nor was it that strange, he realized. His father had been gay, he liked kissing guys more than girls—bit obvious, really. But that wasn't what was eating him. It was the fact that he knew his father had broken up with Lucius because he wanted to have Harry. Well, what if Harry had children in the future too, who were depending on him to get married?

Harry shook his head. There wasn't time to worry about that now. He had things to do. Harry got up, set his jaw, and headed towards the castle.

Draco blinked several times, watching Harry run out of the Shrieking Shack. Okay, admittedly, he had not expected that of Harry, but he wasn't exactly sure what had possessed Harry to run.

Draco shook his head, and took off after Harry. He got out of the tree just in time to see Harry walk inside of the castle. Cursing, Draco followed him, wishing now that he'd done more than Quidditch exercise, which didn't require him to run.

Draco reached the castle and slipped inside. Harry was nowhere to be seen. For a moment, Draco was at a loss, and then remembered a handy little spell his father had taught him when he was younger, in case they ever got separated.

"_Point me, Harry_," Draco whispered, laying his wand flat on his palm. The wand spun around and pointed to his left. Draco ran down that hallway, and another, following the spell's direction, until he reached the Room of Requirement, the door slightly ajar. Draco went inside, and saw Harry throwing Floo powder into a blazing fire.

"Department of Mysteries, Ministry of Magic!" Harry called, and then stepped into the fire.

"What on earth?" Draco muttered. Harry disappeared a moment later. Growling, Draco ran to the fire, and conjured Floo powder. He threw it into the fire, and spoke the same words Harry did. He then entered the Ministry of Magic.

Harry was completely oblivious to the fact that Draco was following him. He exited the fire, which was only a few steps away from the door which had so haunted his dreams when he was fifteen. Harry walked towards the door and threw it open, finding himself once again in the circular room, with the many doors.

"I need to find the veil Sirius went through!" Harry called. One of the doors burst open, and Harry went through.

He found himself in the sunken courtroom, and saw the veil. A dizzying feeling of deja-vu ran through him, and he staggered slightly, remembering watching Sirius fall through it. He walked over to the veil, and watched it quietly. It was the same as ever, fluttering as if in a breeze, with whispering voices behind it. Harry pushed it aside and walked through.

He was in a place full of darkness. And then, a light shone through. A woman, walked out, and light seemed to emanate from her. She had long, black hair, blue eyes, and fair skin. She was also naked.

"Why have you come to this place?" she asked, her voice ethereal. "You do not belong here."

"I—" Harry paused, cleared his throat, and spoke again. "I've come to retrieve the soul of my godfather, Sirius Black. I was told that since he fell through the veil, his soul is trapped here."

She regarded him with odd eyes. "Trapped is one way to put it," she said softly, walking slowly around him. "One could say that your soul is trapped within your body. Or your eyes trapped within your face."

"But I want them there," Harry said in confusion.

"True," she replied. "What makes you think that your godfather does not wish for his soul to be _trapped_ here?"

"I…" but Harry had no answer for that. "I don't know."

"To be trapped in somewhere is not always a bad thing," she said, still circling him.

"But he didn't choose it!" Harry cried.

"Did you _choose_ to come into your body?" she asked, and though she was not looking at him, he could feel her eyes boring into him.

"No," Harry said, starting to feel impatient. "But—"

"Do you dislike it there?" she interrupted.

"Yes!" Harry said, just about fed up with her and her questions. "But there's a difference."

"Really?" she said, and there was the faintest trace of amusement in her tone. "Tell me, what is it?"

"Well—no one would want to be trapped here!" Harry said furiously.

"Indeed." She looked around the dark place. "Few would. But here is not where your godfather is. Here is just the entrance."

"Oh," Harry said, and felt annoyed. She was making him out to be quite stupid. "This isn't—"

"What you expected," she finished. "You expected to come in here and make a big scene. Throw a lot of spells around, and defeat whatever big evil was holding your godfather, and who knew how many other souls against their will. Like you did with the most recent Dark Lord."

Harry blinked. She was right. That _had_ been what he'd thought would happen. Now there was a woman in front of him, proving all his expectations wrong.

"You are just a child," she said softly. "You could not possibly understand any of this. Now, you have suffered a great deal, I know. At seventeen, you defeated the current most powerful Dark Lord on Earth. We respect that, and because of it, we will let you go. Do not come back here, or we will claim your soul. This is not the land of the living. Any who come here die, because it is a place of the dead."

"But…" Harry stammered. "But I heard that I could save Sirius, and three others, if I completed the proper tasks."

She sighed. "There would be no point to that. You can offer us nothing. Your soul is meaningless. The souls of all are meaningless. We are past the plane of human greed, and existence. We are Light magic. Your godfather is happy here, trust me. He died in battle, as he would want to. He is at peace now. Leave it."

At those words, Harry was thrown back through the veil and slammed into someone's body.

"Bloody hell, Harry!" The person was shouting at him, but it didn't matter. Tears dripped down Harry's face. He couldn't save them. He thought he could, but he couldn't. His parents, Sirius, and Draco's mother, the other person he'd planned to bring back…they were truly gone.

Hot tears dripped down his face, and he began to shake. The voice—Draco's, Harry realized—was gentle now.

"Harry," he said softly. "What's wrong? What happened?"

"I—," Harry began, and sniffled. "I tried to save them."

"What?" Draco said confused.

"I thought I could bring them all back. Sirius, my parents, y-your mum," Harry's voice quieted at the end, but his tears refused to cease. "I wanted to. Sirius said I could, but I was wrong."

"What happened?" Draco asked seriously.

With little but obvious halting in his voice, Harry recited what had happened.

"Oh, Harry," Draco sighed. "I'm sorry. I wish it could have been better for you."

Harry shrugged, embarrassed already by his tears, and not wanting to display any more emotion in front of Draco.

"Well, we should go," Harry muttered, beginning to stand.

"Wait!" Draco said, grasping his hand. Harry froze as a rush of electricity ran up his spine at Draco's touch.

"What?" Harry said, perhaps a bit more roughly than he had intended originally.

Draco pulled him back down. "Why did you run away?" Draco asked, and there was a not of hurt in his voice. Harry closed his eyes, and decided to be honest with Draco.

"Because I'm afraid," he said. "Not of being gay," he added, as Draco opened his mouth. "Our fathers broke up because we went back in time. What if we have children in the future that won't exist unless we marry women?"

Draco frowned. "What if we have children in the future who won't exist unless we marry each other?" he asked softly. "Magical pregnancies where only men are involved _are_ possible, you know." Harry's eyes widened in amazement, but Draco continued. "We could debate forever about the 'what ifs?' But they have no point, no purpose except to drive us insane. Do you want to be with me, Harry?"

Harry looked over at Draco, and remembered all their fights at school, and how Draco had become a Death Eater, but had the courage to come over to the Light side. How Draco had fought by his side and saved his life countless times. How easy it was to talk to him when they weren't quarreling. And how amazing it had felt when they kissed.

"I'd like to try," he said, all uncertainty gone from his voice. The lovely smile that crossed Draco's face made his heart pound. Oh, yeah, Harry definitely wanted to try.

Draco leaned forward, his lips inches apart from Harry. Harry caught a whiff of that warm, vanilla scent that he had smelled in his Amortentia potion.

"I would, too," Draco whispered, and kissed him. Without any doubt, any hesitation, Harry kissed back, and felt his heart leap at the mere touch of Draco's lips to his.

As they were exiting the room, hand in hand, Harry happened to glance back at the veil, still fluttering innocently. He smiled. He knew, somehow, that Sirius was safe, and so were his parents. He couldn't do anything about the past, nor what happened with James and Lucius, but, he thought, looking to his and Draco's entwined hands, he could change the future, his time with Draco. And Harry planned to make it a time to remember.

**A/N:** Oh yeah, it's done, by the way. In case anyone was curious. Hope y'all liked it! Stretches. Ah! Now I'm free to write anything new! YAY! Lol. Review, please, y'all. Adios!

-CatJetRat


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